Home
by RainbowDiamonds
Summary: Still haunted by their kiss after eight years, Logan Mitchell returns home from college to face the last person he expected to see-former celebrity James Diamond. Will he ever get an explanation for the kiss that came out of nowhere? And more importantly, what is James hiding? Why is he so determined to avoid Logan? James/Logan slash. AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N-Reminder that I don't own these characters, all credit goes to the creators of "Big Time Rush."

I rarely write in first person, but it felt right for this story. I actually jump back and forth between first and third, and there's a reason for that but it won't be explained until the very last chapter. I hope it isn't too confusing. All of this story is told from Logan's point of view.

Thank you to my friend for reading this over and giving me suggestions. I followed most of them because she's usually right and I love her.

Also-I know nothing about frozen yogurt or how it's processed and sold. I did do a small amount of research on that for this story, but not nearly enough. If I screwed up really badly, forgive me. I've never worked in a frozen yogurt place! Hopefully there's nothing in here that's too unbelievable. Feel free to drop me a line about that (or any thoughts you have while reading this, really, I welcome feedback!).

* * *

When I was fourteen, I experienced my first kiss. There was no warning, no explanation. One minute I was bending down to pop the lock on my bike, the next I stood and turned to face the only other occupant of the bicycle storage area. I don't remember anyone else being around to watch, but maybe that's because my brain malfunctioned when his gaze locked onto mine. Eyes blazing with determination, he stepped closer to trap me between himself and my bike. I had only enough time to realize he was going to kiss me before he was doing it, and in my shock it never occurred to me to shove him away. Lips were moving on mine, a larger hand suddenly cupping the back of my head. While there was nothing more than a slight rub of his tongue against my bottom lip inviting me to open my mouth, it was enough to send electricity running through me from both directions and when the bolts met somewhere in the vicinity of my lower stomach, my fingers instinctively closed around the lapel of his worn denim jacket. I'd seen him in that jacket almost every day for the past three years and noted that it was getting tighter as he shot up and filled out but at the moment it wasn't a piece of clothing—it was an anchor keeping him there until my brain kicked in to remind me that the kiss made no sense and deserved an explanation.

That never happened, though. The kiss knocked my brain for a loop, sending it on an abrupt journey to somewhere outside the solar system, and when we did finally part it was due to his actions, not mine. I remember that my heart was thundering so hard I could hear it in my head, my fingers slowly releasing from the claws they had become around his jacket and my eyes wide as I stared into the face that was becoming more clear as the distance between us stretched out. I was still in a state of shock, but not enough that I didn't notice that he was as well, as if he could hardly believe he'd done it. By the time I remembered to breathe, he was already backing away. I opened my mouth to ask something, I still don't know what I was going to say except maybe "What was that?", but before I could get any words out, he spoke.

"I have to go."

I was still numb enough that all I could do was nod. His expression transformed suddenly, mouth creasing into a grin before he laughed loudly, eyes reflecting sheer happiness. There was a wink and then he was gone, running from the bike area as if chased by a pack of wild dogs, my gaze trained on his long legs and broad shoulders as he moved. Just before rounding a corner of the science building he let out one more exhilarated laugh, then disappeared from view.

I flew home on my bike that day, mind a jumbled mass of questions and body humming with newfound sensations. I told no one of the encounter, needing to analyze and study it before I could even think about discussing it with anyone—and really, who would I tell? I had no friends, not even siblings I could confide in. In the end I settled for a long talk with my dog Rusty, who had been my most faithful companion for ten years. He didn't have any answers to my questions, of course, but he listened well and made soft whiny noises in all the right places to show he was paying attention.

I told Rusty that what shocked me more than anything else about the kiss was that we'd never even spoken to each other. Sure, we'd seen each other around school over the years, but as far as I could tell there was never any interest on his part. It was only in the past year I'd taken an active interest in him myself, and I made sure to never let it show. Nobody knew I found him attractive or liked to watch him at lunch with all his buddies, as I made sure to only do it from a high window of the library that looked out over the quad. Sitting at the table next to the window, I could've been watching everyone as I munched. There was no possible way he could've seen me; I would've known I'd been spotted.

It simply didn't make any sense, Rusty appearing as confused as I felt as I talked. In the end I decided it had been a dare, that one of his drama buddies had put him up to it. Why they'd chosen me, I would never know, unless I just happened to be a random student in the right place at the right time. Maybe I'd work up the courage to ask him about it next time we passed in the hall, or-

Except in all the excitement of the kiss, I'd forgotten it was the last day of school. Last day of junior high, and I wouldn't be seeing him again for three months. Would he even remember it then? Was he even going to the same high school as me next year? What if that was why he'd done it, because he knew he'd never have to see me again?

 _I have to go._

When he'd said that, I assumed he meant home for the day. What I didn't understand until watching the local news that night with my mother was that he meant forever. There he was at the airport, being interviewed about his move to Hollywood for a television show he'd been cast in. Local student turned sudden celebrity, I had no idea that night that James Diamond would become a household name in a matter of months and I'd spend my high school career following his rise to stardom—in secret, of course. He went on to do three seasons as the star of a ridiculously popular television show, and even managed to work in two movies while filming that. By the time he turned eighteen, James Diamond had more money than I would probably make in my entire lifetime, had been through five tumultuous romances followed by extremely public break-ups with actresses as famous as he was, and had become a poster child for Hollywood's wild party scene.

Over the years there were many interviews and articles written about him. There was even a documentary detailing his childhood and rise to fame. I devoured every word, every scene, every hint of information regarding James Diamond, but nowhere in any of it did I find what I was looking for—an explanation for that kiss. It haunted me every day, made me wake up in the dead of night sweating and gasping for air with lingering impressions of a dream that was half-memory. Would I ever have an answer to the question that hung over my head every waking moment? Would I ever know why James Diamond had kissed me out of the blue on the last day of junior high, turning my world upside down in a matter of seconds?

No.

I accepted it on the last day of high school, while approaching the stage to give my valedictorian speech. The colored robes made me think of him and wonder how my life would be different had he stayed in Minnesota, if he'd been there in that moment sitting on a folding chair watching me walk down the aisle nervously. I'd spent a week working on my speech, perfecting it to give the maximum impact without boring the students to death, and as I stepped up to the podium and stared out at the sea of blue and gray caps, I thought of him again and remembered how the kiss made me feel, thought of all the days since that I'd dwelled on it and been driven half-mad with questions.

It was time to let go. It was never more evident than in that moment that my future lay ahead of me, that it was one that didn't include James Diamond, and that I would live the rest of my life without an answer as to why the kiss had happened. I would move forward, I would meet new people in college, and hopefully I'd actually make a few friends. I'd discover my true self. It was terrifying, not only for me but for all of us in that overcrowded auditorium that day, and I suddenly knew what we all needed to hear. The prepared speech was thrown aside in favor of an off the cuff discussion about letting go of things that hold us back and moving on to our true destinies. My mother later told me she was shocked by my speech, as it wasn't the one I'd rehearsed for her, but also extremely proud. It was the first time I could remember doing something without planning it out and thinking it through carefully—if you didn't count the day four years before when I'd instinctively responded to a kiss that came with no warning.

I spent the summer working full-time at the frozen yogurt shop I'd been picking up hours at since I turned sixteen, saving up as much money as I could for the move to Los Angeles. Did my decision to attend college out there have anything at all to do with James Diamond? I can honestly say that no, it didn't. My favorite author taught classes at my chosen university, and that's what had drawn me to it. Did I wonder sometimes if I'd ever run into James Diamond once I moved there? No, I can say that with honesty as well. I'd made the decision to forget about him on the day I graduated, and as I had urged all of my classmates to do, I was moving forward. The dreams had stopped, the memories no longer haunted me, and for the first time in four years I was excited about my life and my future. As I walked into the shop the day before my move to Los Angeles, James Diamond wasn't even a thought in my head. I stepped behind the counter, clocked in for my shift, and was tying an apron around my waist when his name floated to me from the television affixed to a wall.

"While James Diamond is a name often mentioned in our entertainment segments, today's news about him may shock you. James' publicist has issued a statement declaring that the beloved but troubled young star is trading in fame and fortune for the quiet of his small hometown in Minnesota. Diamond, who turned eighteen last month, opted not to renew his contract for a fourth season of 'Class Act' and has fired his manager, giving no explanation for his actions and declining all interviews. When asked by paparazzi stationed at LAX why he was leaving Hollywood behind for good, he only had four words to say. 'I have to go.'"

My stomach dropped while at the same time laughter bubbled up my throat. "Of course you'd say that. Of course you'd give no explanation for your actions. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?"

I missed the rest of the story because my manager had overheard me laughing and mumbling and asked if I was okay. Was I? Not really.

James Diamond was coming home.

* * *

After calling out a goodnight to the last customer of the evening, Logan Mitchell breathed a sigh of relief. Finally he could lock up and put not only this job, but this city, behind him.

James Diamond's arrival in town wouldn't change that. Logan had thought it over throughout the evening and realized that his curiosity wasn't enough to keep him here even ten minutes past his planned departure tomorrow. He'd moved on.

Logan stepped around the counter, making it halfway to the front door before it slammed open violently enough to make the little bell at the top swing wildly. He halted, immediately fearing the worst and ready to tell the intruder that all the money had been dropped into a bottom safe he had no access to. Hands up, he opened his mouth but then closed it when he realized the man wasn't even aware of his presence but was instead crouching down under the shop's large front window as if hiding from someone.

Frowning, Logan backed away slowly while reaching down to slide his phone from the pocket of his jeans. The intruder had crawled all the way across the window and was now standing up slowly along its edge, making sure to keep out of sight while still attempting to see outside. From behind, Logan could only tell that it was a tall, skinny man wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, which was pulled over his head. He approached quietly, thumb at the ready to put a call through to 9-1-1, and said softly, "Can I help you?"

The figure jumped as if prodded with a branding iron, spinning in surprise and letting out a yell before covering his mouth. Between the hood, the hand, and a pair of pitch-black shades, Logan couldn't make out anything of his features. He held up both hands again in a non-threatening gesture, sensing that the intruder was more afraid of him than vice versa.

Or maybe not, because the next thing the intruder did was yell, "What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on someone like that?! Are you crazy?!"

Arms lowering into a more defensive position, Logan uttered, "We're closed. You'll have to leave."

"I can't, they're...at least I think..." He spun around, once again facing the front window as if searching for someone.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you? I can call the police if someone's after you."

"Can't see a damn thing with these on." With a frustrated groan, the man whipped off the shades and hurriedly pocketed them, then squinted out into the darkness once more.

"I'm gonna lock the door," Logan stated slowly, as if afraid to set the man off again.

"Yeah, good idea. Do it."

Still not entirely sure he wasn't safer outside away from whatever it was this guy would undoubtedly drag him into, Logan approached the door and used his key to lock it.

"Are they out there?"

"I...don't really know who I'm looking for. Who's after you?"

"The paps. The fucking paps, they followed me all the way here, can you believe it?"

"The...?" Dread began to slowly course down into Logan's stomach as he turned to face the man, whose profile could be made out now that the shades had been put away. There was no mistaking that classic nose or the eyelashes that were longer than any man had a right to, and when Logan's gaze settled on lips that had once haunted him in dreams, he could only let out a frustrated groan of his own. "Of course. It had to be you."

"Me?" Already offended, James Diamond turned to glare at his would-be rescuer. "What the hell does...oh." Voice immediately dropping to a softer tone, he continued, "It's you."

They stared at each other in wonder for a long moment, Logan unable to keep from studying the face that had grown up from a boyishly handsome visage to the classic stunning good looks any model would kill for. He sensed that James was doing the same to him, noticing the few differences there were (not much more than a few inches of height, sadly, making Logan self-conscious), and finally had to look away from the scrutiny.

James lowered the hood of his jacket to expose longish brown hair that was messy from being under cover. "I wondered if I'd see you again."

"Well, you saw me. I need to close up and get out of here, so I'm afraid I'll need to ask you to leave."

A touch of panic flashed briefly in eyes that appeared green in the fluorescent lighting. "Don't make me go back out there. I know they're waiting for me, they just can't leave me alone."

"Are you sure you're not a little paranoid, James?"

"You know my name?"

Logan shrugged. "You're the most famous thing to come out of Minnesota in twenty years. I'm sure everyone around here knows your name."

"That's the problem. I came here to get away, I just need to go somewhere that nobody knows me. I thought this would be the place."

"You're a local hero, James. You're not going to escape fame here. Look, I'm sorry but I really have to close up. If the alarm isn't set by a certain time, the owner gets a call and I-"

"Fine, is there at least a back door to this place?"

Logan hesitated, then admitted, "There is, but you can't use it. It's for employees only."

"Dude, please. I just need to escape, help me out here."

About to argue that it would possibly get him fired, Logan suddenly realized it didn't matter because this was his last shift anyway. "Okay, fine. Give me a few minutes to clean up and we can leave at the same time."

"Cool. Thanks."

Habit had Logan throwing out the drained yogurt from the day, which he'd always found wasteful but as it couldn't be served again the next day, there was no choice. He stopped himself from dropping the last bit of chocolate yogurt down the drain, reaching for a plastic spoon and walking the cup over to a table James had seated himself at to wait. "Here. Eat this or it goes in the trash."

A genuine smile crossing James' features, he grabbed the bowl and dipped the spoon into the frozen yogurt. "Thanks, man."

Logan nodded and resumed his clean-up duties, finally gathering the trash bags together and feeling James' eyes on him.

"Want me to get the door for you?"

"Sure, we're about to leave anyway. Hit the lights?"

James followed Logan's gaze and moved to the bank of switches, shutting off all of them so that the only remaining light came from a back room. He grabbed one of the heavy trash bags and trailed after Logan, who hesitated in the doorway and looked back at the room, letting his eyes roam and committing it all to memory.

"Come on, you act like you're never coming back here or something. Aren't we on a timer?"

Logan only smirked, not vocalizing that it was most likely his last visit to the place. "Yeah. Let's go."

After setting the alarm by the door, Logan closed it and followed James to a nearby dumpster. "I think you're safe, no paparazzi back here."

"Yeah. Thanks. Logan, right?"

"Right," Logan answered slowly, thinking they'd done things backward by kissing before even exchanging names. Did James even remember that kiss? Did he remember anything of his life before Hollywood took over? More importantly, did it really matter? Logan supposed it didn't. One more thing to leave behind the following day when he boarded a plane for Los Angeles.

The irony wasn't lost on him that James had finally come back from L.A. just in time for Logan to go there. One of life's twisted games.

Once the trash was dumped, Logan reached into a pocket for his ever-present hand sanitizer, offering James a squeeze of it. "You gonna be okay to get home?"

"I only live a few blocks from here, I'm good. I don't know how they found my house, though."

"Is it the same one you lived in before you moved away?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I've heard that fans come through here and take pictures of it. Not really hard to find, James."

James sighed, rubbing his face with a hand and then blinking rapidly. "Ow. That burns."

"Never rub your eyes immediately after sanitizing," Logan smirked.

"Thanks for the warning. This sucks, now I'm gonna have to move. Again. All I wanted was to come home and pick up my life where I left off."

Remembering exactly where James had left off with him, Logan dropped his gaze while his cheeks heated up. "It's not that easy. You can't just pretend you were never gone."

"Sure I can. The people around here will treat me like they always did before, right?"

"Doubt it. Though maybe in time that'll change. Maybe in time you can just be...normal. Is that what you want?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I want. It's why I moved back here."

"Well. I wish you luck with that, then. Goodnight, James."

James watched Logan walk to his car, trailing slowly behind. "That's it? You're just gonna leave?"

"Tomorrow's a busy day, I have a lot to do tonight." He unlocked the door and opened it, glancing back at James once. "You're gonna be okay. I promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Logan smiled. "The town will welcome you and before you know it, it'll be like you never left."

"I'd like that." Closing the distance between them, James waited until Logan was seated behind the wheel to step up and rest an arm on the roof. "See you around?"

Knowing it was never going to happen, Logan shrugged. "I guess you never know. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, but here you are."

"Here I am," James agreed quietly. "Listen, we never really-"

Afraid of where James might be going with that, Logan didn't give him a chance to finish. As he had done only twice before in his life, Logan acted without thought and reached up to drag James down by the shirt for a kiss, this one longer and more intense for the fact that he wasn't in shock this time. James might have been, but Logan knew exactly what he was doing this time and took ownership of James' mouth, surprising a gasp from him before he responded in kind as if he'd been waiting four years to do this again.

For all Logan knew, he had been. Logan had spent four years thinking about it, was it really so hard to believe that James might have, too?

The electricity was back in full force, shudders coalescing in Logan's navel area and traveling down between his legs to pull a soft groan from him, which seemed to flip a switch in James. He kissed Logan harder and attempted to pull him from the seat, but that was enough to wake Logan up. With an effort he pushed James away, gasping for air as they stared at each other, and managing to speak four words.

"I have to go."

Before his resolve could fail him, Logan started the car and slammed the door shut. James' shocked face through the window haunted him the entire drive home, but all Logan could do was laugh in disbelief—both at the fact that he'd actually done it, and at the irony of the situation. Just like James had, he would be flying to California the next day, saying goodbye to the life he knew and starting a new one.

Only this time he wouldn't be the one left behind wondering what it all meant.

* * *

 ** _Four Years Later_**

The next four years were a crash course in life for me. Coming from a small city where I'd never had real friends or anything even close to a girlfriend, I was thrust into a world where those two symbols determined status more than they had in high school. There I had been able to bury myself in studies and ignore the social aspect of it all; in college it was impossible to escape because outside of classes, I was surrounded by it from morning to night.

I didn't escape unscathed. I got drunk twice, went on a few random dates, and even found myself a real live girlfriend. She stayed with me for nine months before summer break came along and she returned home to reconnect with an old flame. As for me, I never went back home, not even for the holidays. I kept myself busy with a part-time job in a bookstore (an apt place for an aspiring writer, I always thought) and Mom came to visit me over Christmas each year. Though she continually begged me to come home for the summer, she understood the demands of a job and the need to make my own way. She met my roommate once, the same guy I roomed with for the duration of my college years, and felt better knowing I wasn't spending all of my time alone.

After graduating, I packed up the last of my belongings for the first trip home in four years. I'd worked my last shift at the bookstore earlier in the day, and had to admit I would miss it. The job, the excitement of unpacking a new shipment of books each week, the people. I'd miss my roommate, too. At least there'd be no girlfriend to miss.

As I lay in bed thinking about the upcoming return home to my old life, I couldn't help but let my mind touch on James Diamond. Had I thought of him at all during the four years away? I'd be lying if I said no. I never consciously went looking for news about him, nor did I stumble across anything more exciting than a few magazine covers at the grocery store in the first few months. You'd think working at a bookstore I'd have seen more, but somehow I got lucky. Maybe we just didn't carry the tabloids that speculated about him so much in the early days, or maybe fate was giving me a break.

Did I think about the kisses? Sometimes. I couldn't help but remember them when my girlfriend kissed me the first time. I couldn't even resist comparing her lips to his, her kisses to the all-consuming fire his brought to life in my body. And yes, the second kiss had woken up the dreams again, at least for awhile. Once I was so homesick that I spent a Saturday binge-watching every episode of "Class Act" and wishing I could go back to that life where I was obsessed with figuring out something so simple as a kiss. That was also the night I got drunk for the second (and last) time, spending half the night throwing up and somehow in my drunken haze blaming James for all of my problems in life. When I woke the next morning I vowed never to drink again and to forget about James Diamond the way I had before.

I was successful in that until packing my last suitcase, when I found a DVD of his stupid show in a box I'd shoved under my bed. I almost threw out the damn thing, but in the end it went into my suitcase.

Why? I don't know. Maybe because it was a part of my childhood I couldn't bear to part with. Maybe because when I was feeling hopelessly lost and alone, it was that show that got me through it.

Or maybe because James Diamond kissed me like the characters I secretly wrote about in my romance stories. For class I'd written "normal" stories, most of them not about love at all. I had notebooks filled with other stories, though-ones where a knight in shining armor rescued a poor farm boy from evil, or a lonely scientist created the perfect android best friend only to fall in love with him. We don't have to talk about what the knight and android looked like, do we? Or the fact that the characters I created all looked like two particular people?

No. We don't.

So maybe deep down he never left my mind. But did that mean I was ready to see him again? What I realized as I laid in bed mentally preparing to return home was that I honestly didn't care. I had no idea if he was still living at home or if he'd moved or if he'd rebooted his acting career. I didn't want to. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in that game again. We were even as far as I was concerned, each of us moving on to our destinies.

Mine would bring me back to Lake Valley, and to my mother. Everything else was up for grabs.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N-Reminder that I don't own these characters, all credit goes to the creators of "Big Time Rush."

* * *

After spending most of the afternoon spoiling his mother rotten with lunch and quality time, Logan sat down to take a stab at the novel he'd been working on in California; it was still going nowhere. There was a brief attempt following dinner, then he gave up and ventured to the one other place besides school he'd felt at home. As he stepped through the door of the shop a few minutes before closing, the tinkle of the little bell above his head made him smile. How many times had he heard that sound in his sleep before moving to Los Angeles?

The place was empty, even the front counter unmanned. Logan frowned and stepped closer, about to walk behind it and toward the back room when he heard a burst of profanity followed by an annoyed, "I'm closing up right now, I'll be there as soon as I can. I have to go."

Immediately reminded of James upon hearing those four words, Logan sighed. Would he be forever haunted by the memory of a kiss ( _two_ , his mind whispered) that meant nothing? Either way, the voice didn't belong to his old manager John, and Logan was disappointed. He should have called first.

"I'll be right there!" was yelled from the back room, and Logan was tempted to just leave and try again in the morning; maybe John worked mostly days now. His gaze fell on the peanut butter frozen yogurt, though, and his resolve weakened. It had always been his favorite. Before he could talk himself out of it he moved to the yogurt machines with a cup in his hand, mouth already salivating at the idea of this coupled with a peanut butter cup topping.

He heard someone moving across the room behind him to lock the door and promised, "I'll get it to go. If you already closed out the register, just leave a note and they can ring it in tomorrow morning."

There was a pause before an indignant voice stated, "I know how to do my job. I didn't become assistant manager by being an idiot, you know."

Assistant manager? Logan spun around slowly, wondering who John had deemed worthy of filling his shoes, and his gaze fell on a tall young man in blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a green apron with a name tag fixed to it. He didn't need to read the tag to know it said James, nor did the man's outraged pose of muscled arms crossed over his chest hide the fact that he was as surprised as Logan when their eyes locked.

"It's you," James finally managed, arms straightening to fall at his sides while Logan's grip on the cup tightened to keep it from slipping from his grasp in shock. He couldn't find words at first, brain slamming the idea home that he should've foreseen this. He should've known fate would play dirty like this.

"Did you move back?"

"I...was looking for John."

"He'll be here in the morning."

James had cut his hair. It no longer hung to his shoulders but instead curved over his ears. The bangs were there but almost an afterthought, strands falling forward over his forehead as if struggling to be noticed. There was just a hint of stubble around his jaw, enough to remind Logan that James was no longer the scared man-boy who had run into this same building in fear of cameras four years earlier.

"Did you want to leave a note for him?"

Jolted out of his reverie, Logan shook his head. "I'll come back. Can I just pay for this?"

Waving a hand in dismissal, James offered an amused smirk. "It's on the house. The least I can do for the legendary Logan Mitchell."

"Legendary?" Logan echoed. Was James referring to the kisses? Were his lips that amazing?

"Please, all I hear is how great you were and how John wishes you'd come back. If you wanted to, you could, you know. But you can't have my job," James added suddenly. "I need it."

"I wouldn't. I don't want to come back, I just wanted to say hi to John. I don't mind paying for the-"

"Forget it. Get out of here and let me close up. Unless you want to help?" James hinted.

Reminded of the last time they'd been here together, Logan wondered if James was remembering the same part he was-the goodbye kiss. He wanted no repeat of that and considered bolting while he could, but then his mind recalled the cursing from the back room and the promise to be home soon. Imagining a wife and child (or at least a girlfriend and child), Logan caved. "Let me know when you're ready to do the trash." He parked himself at a table near the counter and dug into his favorite flavor, eyes closing in ecstasy when the overload of peanut butter and chocolate overwhelmed his taste buds.

He was aware of James moving around the building, between the back room and the front, and dutifully lifted his feet when a broom swished under the table. James grinned down at him and he couldn't resist stepping on the broom at the last second, trapping it there.

"I'd like to get out of here at some point tonight," James commented, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that told Logan he didn't really mind the childish move. Logan lifted his feet and James continued to sweep, glancing back once to ask again, "So did you move back or what?"

"Yeah," Logan answered, licking the last traces of yogurt from his spoon and sitting back with a stuffed stomach. "College is done, now it's time for real life."

"And what exactly does that mean for you?"

"Not sure yet. I guess that's what I came home to figure out."

James nodded before disappearing into the back room and returning with a mop and bucket. Knowing there were other duties he had to attend to and remembering he had a short amount of time to do it, Logan stood and approached to trade so that he held the mop and James now held his empty cup. "Let me do that. You finish up with the machines and gather the trash so we can get out of here."

"Thanks," James smiled.

Logan managed to keep his focus on the floor for the most part, though he was still aware of James moving around. "Be careful over there, it's still wet."

"Thanks," James said again. "You sure you don't want to come back and steal my job?"

"Positive," Logan chuckled. "Are you planning to quit?"

"Hell no. This is my happy place, no one's taking that from me."

Logan nodded as if he understood, but the words only left him wondering more about the home life James had waiting for him.

Ten minutes later Logan flipped off the lights and followed James to the back room, hefting a bag of trash before James stopped him. "Sorry, you're not an employee. You can't use this door."

"Shut up," Logan replied, laughing when James did. "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember everything," James winked. "You could've told me you were moving the next day."

"Oh, like you told me you were moving after junior high?"

James only shrugged before opening the door to usher Logan out. He punched in the alarm code and followed, then turned back to lock the door. "We didn't know each other then."

"We didn't know each other four years ago, either."

"Sure we did. Just because you don't see someone for years doesn't mean you forget about them. Right?"

It was Logan's turn to shrug as James lifted the bag from his hands and tossed it into a nearby dumpster. He wiped his hands on his jeans and Logan shook his head. "You still don't carry sanitizer with you?"

"We can't all be Boy Scouts like you."

"It's common hygiene." Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny plastic bottle he carried everywhere, then squeezed some into James' waiting hands before doing the same to his own. "Don't-"

"Yeah, I remember. Don't wipe my eyes."

Hands clean, Logan slid them into his pockets. "You got a ride?"

"Only live a block away now, but thanks."

"No paps to worry about tonight?" Logan teased.

"No," James chuckled, his cheeks turning a red so deep it was noticeable even in the alley's dim light. "Haven't had to worry about that much over the past few years."

"So you found the life you wanted here? Quiet and normal?"

"You could say that," James said slowly, his own hands sliding into his pockets as they walked around a corner of the building. "You parked out front?"

"Yeah. So John's opening tomorrow?"

"Yep. He'll be happy to see you."

"I missed him. Probably the closest thing I ever had to a father figure."

"He's good like that," James agreed, coming to a stop next to Logan's car.

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?" Logan asked again. James seemed reluctant to leave.

"No, I can't. But thanks."

Logan nodded, then opened the door and climbed in to settle himself behind the wheel. "See you around sometime."

There was a hesitation, as if James was making up his mind about something, then, "That's it? No goodbye kiss this time?"

"Nope. We're even now. And it isn't goodbye." Logan grinned up at James. "Maybe I'll stop in another night and help you close."

"You should just come back to work. Then we could close together every night."

"Goodnight, James."

"You're still smiling. You like the idea of that. Just think about it, we could-"

His phone rang suddenly and James jumped, the smirk being replaced by fear. "I have to go."

"Of course you do," Logan muttered. He watched James run off into the night, speaking rapidly into the phone now pressed to his ear. "It's what you do."

* * *

Knowing the shop opened at ten, Logan woke early and used the time to reacquaint himself with the house and his mother's routine. Rusty had spent the entire night cuddled up to him like the old days, ensuring peaceful sleep so that he woke refreshed. After cooking breakfast for his mother and seeing her off to work, he sat down on the sofa to read the paper, but when Rusty climbed up and stared at him as if waiting, he set the paper aside.

"It's true. I saw him last night." Logan reached up to scratch Rusty behind the ears, smiling when a happy whine escaped the dog. "I think he wanted me to kiss him again. That's crazy, right? Four years I was gone but the second he sees me again, he expects a kiss. How does he know I don't have a girlfriend? How do I know he doesn't?"

Rusty had no answer to that.

"I'm pretty sure he has one. Somebody sure was impatient for him to get home last night, and I'm guessing it's some gorgeous little blonde that he knocked up. Probably a former cheerleader. Well, he wanted small-town life. I guess he got it."

Logan sighed, frowning at Rusty. "So why do I still want to kiss him? He cut his hair, you know. Seems to have grown up some, but he's still really hot. And taken. I hardly thought about him for four years, buddy. All he ever does is run away. Why do I still want to kiss him?"

When Rusty dipped his muzzle in for a lick to Logan's chin, he laughed. "Not you, dork! Him! I just don't...I can't figure out why. It's best I forget about him again, right? I don't need that in my life. I need to just focus on my novel and get that cranking, see if I can find an editor. That's my priority right now. So...James Diamond, as hot as you are, you are not part of my plan. And I'm going to forget about you now."

Rusty let out a soft whine, causing Logan to chuckle. "Not you, weirdo. I could never forget about my best buddy."

After hugging Rusty to him and closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling, Logan glanced at the living room clock. "I'm gonna go see John but I'll be back for lunch, okay? You can hang out in the backyard until then."

Thirty minutes later the little bell was tingling over his head as he stepped through the door. Almost immediately a portly balding man stepped out from the back room. "Hi, how can I—Logan?!"

Grinning hugely, Logan approached the counter. "Hey, John. How you doing?"

With eyes wide and mouth agape, John rounded the counter and rushed to Logan for a tight hug. "You came back! I always hoped one day you would, but I never thought..." Suddenly stepping back with a frown, he asked suspiciously, "Or are you just home for a visit before moving out there for good?"

"Nope, I'm home now. College graduate."

"Well yeah, I knew that, but...Logan, this is so great! You look great! It's so great to see you! How are you?"

"Great," Logan quipped with a chuckle. "I'm good. Glad to be home, actually. I stopped in last night but you weren't here, so I came back today."

"Oh, yeah, James usually closes up now. You met him?"

"I did," Logan nodded, speaking carefully. "How's he doing with the job?"

"Pretty good. Nobody's as good as you, of course, but he's come a long way. Got a sense of responsibility now and cares about the job and the place. Takes care of it like his own business. I wasn't sure about hiring him in the beginning, but it's a risk that worked out for me. He also brought in business, as you can imagine. He was a famous actor when he first started here, you know."

"Oh, yeah, I think I might've seen him on T.V. once or twice," Logan fibbed. "He thought I wanted his job."

John rolled his eyes before shaking his head affectionately. "He's so paranoid I'm gonna fire him. I keep telling him he's fine, he has nothing to worry about."

"So his idea that you compare him to me all the time is in his head?"

"Ah. Well, no, I do bring you up sometimes. Mostly to give everyone else something to strive for," John winked. "You want to come back? I'll fit you in."

"I...no. But thanks. It's nice to know I'm welcome here if I ever need a place to go."

"Always, Logan. You know I had dreams of passing this place on to you one day, right?"

"John," Logan blushed, uncomfortable as his hands slid into his pockets. "I appreciate that but my dream is to-"

"Write a book that'll change the world, I know. How's that going?"

Logan shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest now and about to speak when the bell gave its signal. He glanced back to see a woman with two kids enter the shop, then silently indicated they'd continue the conversation later. While the customers kept John occupied, Logan took a seat at a table in the corner and let his mind wander.

He'd never considered owning this place. It wasn't what he wanted out of life. It sounded like something James would want, though, as he'd called the shop his "happy place." Logan again wondered if there was a family to support. Had he blown through all the money from his acting days?

The mom and children soon escaped with their treats to go, leaving John free to join Logan at the table. "Want something? On the house."

"No, thanks," Logan smiled. "I promised Rusty I'd eat lunch with him. Besides, James gave me a free cup last night."

"Did he? Smart kid. How is your best buddy, anyway?"

For a moment thinking John was referring to James, Logan opened his mouth to state that they were far from best buddies, but then John continued.

"He's gotta be getting up in years by now, hasn't he? You got him when you were about five."

"Oh. Yeah. Four, actually. He's okay. Happy I'm home. He's definitely slowing down, though. I feel bad for leaving him for four years."

"Hey, you had to get an education, Logan. Don't beat yourself up. Just stick around now and spend what time he has left with him. You sure you don't want to work here? Even part-time would be a huge help."

"What, and take hours from James?" Logan teased. "He'd probably find a way to frame me and get me fired."

"Nah, he's a good kid. Come a long way. He uh...you know. Had a lot of problems when he started here."

"Besides paranoia that's apparently still an issue?"

"That was more than paranoia, it was reality. I can't even tell you how many paps I had to chase out of here the first six months or so."

"Really?" Logan asked in surprise. "When exactly did you hire him?"

"The day you left. He came in and begged me for a job. Just so happened I had an opening, what with you moving away."

Logan blinked slowly as the revelation settled in. "The day I left? The day after we..."

"We what?"

"Uh...said goodbye. The day after we said goodbye."

"Right. Yeah, he said he had just moved back to town and really needed a job and wanted something normal. He was so desperate I decided to give him a chance. The first year was rocky, with his drug issues, but then he met Scott and it all turned around."

"Drug issues?" Logan echoed. "So the rumors about his party life in Hollywood were true?"

"Yeah. Kid got hooked on some bad stuff, had a drinking problem, too. At eighteen, can you believe it? But after he kept missing work or showing up hungover, I sat him down and told him if he didn't change, I'd have to let him go. It broke my heart, I could tell he was a good kid deep down. He promised to change and tried, but the drugs had a grip on him. I was about to fire him when he came to me and asked for some time off to get straight. I gave him six weeks to get his life in order and when he came back, he'd gotten the drugs out of his system and stopped drinking. Said he met someone who helped him get over it. Without Scott, I think he'd fall apart."

Logan swallowed hard, mind spinning. "Does he have a family? Like a wife and kids, or anything?"

"Nah, nothing like that. He lives with his best friend but as far as I know, there's no girl in his life. I tried to fix him up with my niece once and he had a fit. Said she was sweet and pretty but he couldn't go on any dates. It's a shame, I think a nice girl is exactly what he needs to boost that confidence."

"Probably," Logan commented, but he was thinking that a nice boy might be more what James was interested in. "This friend he lives with..."

"Scott."

"Oh. So the guy who turned his life around, that's who he lives with now?"

"Yeah. Nice kid, clean cut and always makes sure James is taken care of."

"How so?" Logan asked curiously.

"You know, brings him lunch sometimes, picks him up after work here and there. I've offered to give James a few day shifts so they can hang out in the evenings, since that's when Scott's home, but he says he likes working nights. So Scott comes here instead."

Remembering the pieces of conversation he'd overheard the night before, Logan wondered if it wasn't on purpose that James stayed away at night. _This is my happy place._ Maybe things weren't so perfect at home with the golden boy.

John stood up when the door opened to usher in what looked to be a Boy Scout troop, making Logan think of James' words the night before. _We can't all be Boy Scouts._ No, Logan supposed not, but James had apparently worked hard to become an upstanding citizen that would blend in. How long had it been since he'd had a drink? Who was this knight that had rescued James from his destructive ways?

 _Why do I even care?_

That was what he needed to focus on; James Diamond wasn't his concern. Writing a novel, that was his priority. Finding an editor and a publisher. Living his own life without being dragged into someone else's—that was his destiny.

Seeing that John was overrun at the counter, Logan took pity and stepped behind it to lend a hand. John gave him a grateful smile and the two worked together as they had years ago, when Logan's biggest problem had been trying to figure out the meaning behind a kiss.

As the group filed out of the shop ten minutes later and another filed in, John tossed Logan a green apron from the backroom.

It was good to be home.

* * *

It was after two o'clock and Logan had long since missed lunch with Rusty when an outraged voice accosted him from the back room.

"You _are_ trying to steal my job. I _knew_ it!"

Logan glanced back once to silently communicate that the conversation needed to wait until he was finished with the current customer, then returned to the task at hand. Next to him James donned an apron and offered to help the next customer in line, but Logan could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface.

Once they were able to leave the front counter, Logan gently pulled James into the back room. "Relax, I'm just covering for John for a little bit. He went out to get lunch, it was too busy for me to leave earlier."

"Oh, so you're not even employed here and he's okay with leaving you in charge? Why didn't he call me? I would've come in early."

"It's fine, I was already here. I came in to say hi and ended up staying to help."

"Well, I'm here now, so...you can go."

Logan lifted an eyebrow at the tone. "And miss out on lunch that he's buying? I don't think so."

"Fine, just stay out of my way and don't make a mess with your food."

Wondering where the flirty guy from the night before had gone, Logan kept his voice neutral as he said, "If you'd stop being an asshole for five seconds, I might let you know that he's buying lunch for you, too."

James' face changed, emotion taking over the haughty expression. "For me? He's buying me lunch?"

"Yes, James. He thought you might be hungry."

"Oh. Well...I am. I didn't have time to make anything before I came in, so..."

"So when he gets here, I'll run the counter until you're done eating. Sound like a plan?"

"When will you eat?"

"After you're done. I'm not on any kind of timeline."

"Cool. Thanks."

Logan narrowed his gaze as James walked back into the main shop area. Was James about to cry? What the hell was wrong with this guy, angry one second and a crying mess the next? Was he back on drugs?

The ringing of the store's phone pulled Logan out of the back room to see that James was already busy with another customer. "I got it," Logan called out, the rehearsed greeting slipping from his lips as if he'd never left when he picked up the phone. "Thanks for calling Frozen Delights, how can I help you?"

"Who's this?"

The surly tone had Logan immediately defensive. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking for James. Who is this?"

"James is with a customer at the moment. Would you like to wait or leave a message?"

"Seriously, who is this?"

"I suppose calling back is also an option. I'm going to hang up now and you can-"

The phone was jerked from his hand, causing Logan to step back in surprise. "Hey, I'm here. Sorry, it's been busy today." James paused before saying, "Yeah, I know, I was gonna call when I got here but I jumped in right away because—what? Oh. No, he's just an old friend of John's. I'm alone right now so he grabbed the phone and—yeah, John will be back soon. Babe, they really need me at the counter, I'm sorry. Yeah. I'll call you on my break. I have to go."

James hung up the phone and turned away from Logan, busying himself with cleaning the counter and then starting on the machines themselves with his head down as if ashamed. Thoughts once again spinning a mile a minute, Logan barely registered the sound of the bell as John walked through the door with a large bag of sandwiches and chips.

"James! Got you your favorite, I hope you're hungry."

Avoiding Logan's gaze that was still glued to him, James managed a weak smile for John. "Thanks. It means so much to me, you don't even know. I didn't have time for lunch today, I was busy fixing something for Scott and-"

"Don't even worry about it. Why don't you go ahead and eat before Logan takes off?"

"Sure."

After taking the bag from John, James escaped into the back room.

"Oh, he'll need something to drink. Can you grab him a root beer from the fountain? He loves that stuff even though he never allows himself to drink it."

"Yeah," Logan said softly. On autopilot, he filled the cup with ice and soda and grabbed a straw. When he set it on the table in front of James, all James did was mumble a thank you without looking up. Logan laid a hand on his shoulder and asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

Rather than reply, James shoved one end of the sandwich into his mouth and nodded. It was all the answer Logan needed.

He returned to the front room, glad to find John free from customers at the moment. "Hey. Is that offer of a job still open?"


	3. Chapter 3

*A/N-Reminder that I don't own these characters and that all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

Did I really want to work again? No. It would take me away from the novel I was determined to write and most likely get me involved in drama I didn't need. Sure, the money would help, but it wasn't exactly a high-paying job, especially since I'd made it clear to John I didn't want the assistant manager position; I refused to take that from James.

So then why did I suddenly change my mind and offer my services? At the time I wasn't sure. When my mom asked me if I just missed the place, I said yes. She said something along the lines of how she understood that I might feel lost returning from college with no concrete direction, and it was natural to crave familiarity and structure. Leave it to Mom to psychoanalyze me. But rather than disagree, I merely shrugged as if maybe she was onto something and let her believe that was the reason.

Because the real reason didn't even make sense. Obviously it had to do with James, but how to explain that? How to even understand it myself? I certainly wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Whatever was going on between James and his roommate/friend/rescuer, it was none of my business and I didn't want it to be. The smart thing to do would be to walk away and turn all of my attention to the novel, let it consume me as those silly stories had when the words were pulled like a magnet from my brain to the screen.

So far I hadn't felt that tug yet, though. I'd sat down a few times since returning home and the same thing happened here that kept happening in Los Angeles—nothing. Sure, I'd get a few words out. Maybe even a paragraph. But writer's block is a bitch and the more you pressure yourself, the harder it gets to create a world outside your own. It had been writer's block that sent me to the shop that first night, a need to get out of the house and away from my laptop long enough to breathe. And in doing so, I'd stumbled right back into the thing I'd tried most to forget during my four years away.

Now here he was again, pulling me back in, this time not with a kiss but with sad and sometimes scared eyes. How many stories had I written where I (I can admit that now, that the stories were subconsciously about him and me, no matter how many different names I'd used) had rescued him from danger? I had been his hero and we'd lived happily after. Time and time again. I'd moved away and missed out on being that for him four years ago when he'd needed a rescuer most. Someone else had filled my role, and it made me feel guilty now that I left without looking back when he'd been in a horrible place.

Had I known, would it have changed my mind about moving, though? Honestly, probably not. The second kiss was just as powerful as the first, but I'd done it more for fun (and maybe a little bit of curiosity and desperation) than anything else. Okay, maybe for revenge, too. I wanted to leave him dreaming of me and tortured the way he'd left me four years previously. Obviously that didn't happen, he'd discovered a new friend, and that guy had been his hero. It was too late for me now.

And yet...

And yet.

There was something in those eyes. The fear the night before when his phone rang and he suddenly looked terrified and whispered, "I have to go." The way he'd snatched the phone from my hand to reassure someone that everything was fine, Logan was nobody, sorry I didn't call when I got here. In my heart I knew that someone was Scott, and I also knew that something wasn't quite right in the home James had built with his hero.

 _Walk away, Logan. Call John right now and tell him you changed your mind, that you only agreed to the job out of nostalgia and a momentary attack on your self-confidence, that what you really need to do is focus on your book because that's your direction. That's where your life is headed. Move forward, not back. Don't let James Diamond drag you back in and sink his claws into you._

 _Move forward._

Bracing himself, Logan picked up the phone to call John and quit.

* * *

Logan placed the call, his heart beating hard as the ringing filled his ear, and he opened his mouth to speak when the line was picked up. He had the speech planned.

He hesitated, however, when a dead-sounding voice greeted him. "Frozen Delights, can I help you?"

Logan's stomach dropped. "James?"

"Who is this?" Suspicious.

"Logan. It's Logan. Is uh...is John around?"

"No. He called me in early today, said you can handle the closing procedures by yourself." Still dead.

"But I'm not even a manager. I don't want to be."

"Too bad. I need to get out of here at five, don't be late."

"I...are you alone now?"

"No, I got Rebecca here. We're fine. Just get here by five."

"Is everything okay with John?"

"Yeah, something with his mom. Are we done? I have to go."

 _I have to go._ James' favorite line, and one Logan knew he'd grow to hate more than he already did. "Yeah," he sighed. "We're done."

"Fine. Don't be late."

"Relax, I'll be there on time."

"You'd better be."

The line went dead and Logan closed his eyes, dread pooling in his stomach.

 _I should've walked away._

* * *

Due to no fault of his own, Logan actually _was_ late. He'd left with plenty of time but didn't understand that in four years the population of Lake Valley had grown exponentially so that rush hour traffic had become a real thing. Four minutes before five, he called the shop again and was unsurprised when James answered sounding frantic.

"James, it's Logan. I'm sorry, I'm on my way but there's all this traffic and-"

"You can't be late! You promised! You said you'd be on time, you-"

"I know. I meant to be, I thought I left with enough time. I'm sorry, it shouldn't be more than ten minutes but I won't be there by five."

"Unbelievable. Your first day and you're already late. Is this how it's gonna be, Logan? Because I won't stand for someone who doesn't care about-"

"James, I care! I hate being late, trust me, this wasn't something I planned."

"I can't even hear you, what are you, on speaker?"

"Yes, James," Logan answered patiently. "I'm driving, I can't be-"

"Just get here! I can't wait around all night, I have plans, I-" A gasp was followed by a softly muttered, "Shit!" Then James' voice went from angry to syrupy, but Logan heard a hint of panic behind it as well. "Heeeeeey. Yeah, almost ready, but the new hire is running late, so I should be ready in—Logan, how long did you say?"

A growing suspicion eating away at him, Logan replied, "About an hour."

"An hour?" James hissed. "You just said ten minutes, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh, traffic just opened up. Make that five minutes."

James sighed, sounding like he was about to break down. "Please, Logan," he begged softly. "Just get here. I have to go."

The line went dead. Logan spent the remainder of the drive reflecting on the panic in that voice, the plaintive tone at the end. He felt guilty for messing with James on the time, but the result had been exactly what he'd feared it would be—panic at the idea of him being even later. Realizing that Scott was most likely at the shop and waiting to take James home, Logan couldn't help but be curious when he eventually walked into the back room and picked up an apron.

Before stepping out, he glanced around the front room while remaining hidden behind the open door. The shop was busy at the moment, mostly kids killing time with friends, and a few adults meeting over frozen yogurt. There was one man seated alone with nothing on the table—no drink, no treat, just hands clasped together tightly as his concentrated gaze followed James around the shop.

 _Has to be Scott._

Scott was gorgeous in a rugged kind of way, arm muscles bulging as he leaned forward impatiently. He wore jeans that looked brand new and a tank top that screamed "gym" to Logan, his hair short in a clean-cut style. What Logan found most arresting about him were piercing blue eyes that seemed to lack warmth.

James suddenly rushed into the back room muttering under his breath so that Logan only caught a few words. "Kill him"..."gonna die"..."five minutes, my ass"...

"Hey," Logan greeted softly, turning his back to the door.

Jumping a mile, James gasped and spun around. "Jesus, don't do that! What the hell were you—wait, how long have you been here? Are you just wasting time back here while I-"

"I just got here, calm down. I'm sorry I'm late, next time I'll make sure to leave earlier. I just didn't know traffic was-"

"I don't care. You're here, I have to go. John said he'd call you later, he left his keys on the desk for you. Rebecca's here until seven but still needs her last break. It was too busy to send her." James was already removing the apron with jerky movements.

"That's fine, we'll manage. I thought I'd be working with you tonight."

"You were supposed to, but John...whatever. Looks like you get the manager position after all."

"I didn't want it. I wanted to close with you, I thought maybe we-"

"I'm already late, I have to go."

Before Logan could say anything, James practically sprinted out of the back room and around the counter to approach the table Logan had been watching earlier. He immediately started to talk fast, obviously apologizing profusely, but Scott's attention wasn't on him. Scott was now watching Logan, who had moved into the room and was introducing himself to Rebecca but felt the hostile gaze trained on him. Logan glanced over to meet the cold blue eyes that were sizing him up. James' rambling trailed off as he looked back and forth between Scott and Logan, and within seconds he was gently pulling Scott toward the front door. After one last look at Logan, Scott followed.

"What the hell was that about?" Logan asked himself quietly.

Not quietly enough, though, because Rebecca answered. "That's Scott, James' roommate. He worries about James a lot. It's kind of cute."

"Cute?" Logan echoed. "He looked like he wanted to gut me."

"Well, you're new. He'll warm up to you, don't worry. He takes care of James, and I think anyone new is a threat until he knows you're not going to hurt James."

"Hurt James? Why would anyone hurt James?"

"Did you know he used to be really famous? I watched his show when I was in junior high. Never thought one day I'd work with the guy! But I guess he's had a rough life and Scott makes sure that doesn't happen again, you know? The paps used to follow him everywhere, it was sad."

"When did that stop?"

"I don't know. Maybe when he met Scott. Scott wouldn't put up with that. I heard a rumor that a pap tried to take a pic of James once and ended up in the hospital. He's really nice, but I wouldn't mess with him."

 _This is my happy place._

For no real reason the words returned to Logan, making him wonder again why home wasn't. What was James so afraid of?

* * *

Though Logan had taken the job in order to spend time with James, over the next month they never shared a shift. It was partly due to the fact that John had assigned Logan the same position as James, and there was rarely a need for more than one manager at a time. John thanked Logan time and time again because he'd come at the perfect moment, when John's mother began having medical problems and Logan's presence made it possible for John to be away from the shop without worry.

Logan only saw James in passing, and that was a brief changing of the guard that James obviously couldn't wait to be done with. It had been Logan's understanding that James preferred to close each night, but as soon as Logan began to work at the shop James suddenly asked to be switched to day shifts and John accommodated him. Logan was never late again, not wanting to upset James, but even when he arrived early enough to clock in fifteen minutes before his shift was due to begin, James would use it as an excuse to dash.

"Oh good, you're here. I have to go."

Logan heard that more times than he could count over the first month, so much that he began to think James was avoiding him. Some days Scott would be waiting to pick him up, others James would leave with no ride, but in either situation he seemed to be anxious to run the moment Logan appeared, and it left Logan disheartened.

As the second month began he considered quitting. What was the point of keeping the job if he never saw James, never got to talk to him or get a feel for how he was doing? Before he could make the decision, though, John repeated his gratitude for Logan, because his mother didn't seem to be getting better. After that, Logan couldn't go through with it. He was stuck.

It wasn't until he overheard one of the clerks, Anna, asking Rebecca to switch a shift that the obvious solution came to him. While alone that night in the shop he studied the week's schedule and came up with the perfect plan, making sure John would be able to close the following night before calling Anna at home and offering to take the early shift for her. Anna was overjoyed, and by the time Logan hung up he was smiling, too. True, it would only be four hours working with James, but it was a start.

It was four hours that James wasn't expecting and couldn't escape.

Logan arrived a half hour early for the afternoon shift, stopping on the way to pick up lunch for both him and James, and was pleased to see that the place was empty when he peeked out the door from the back room. James was keeping himself busy sweeping, but at the faraway look in his eyes he wasn't seeing the dirt he was currently displacing; whatever James was thinking about, it had him smiling and wistful, and for a moment Logan simply stared. What could possibly make James happy enough to let his guard down and smile so beautifully?

Not wanting to ruin James' moment with words, he quietly made his way to the soda fountain and picked up a cup, sensing that James was suddenly aware of his presence but giving him time to recover by filling the cup with his back to James.

"Hey, no free drinks when you're not working."

"I am working. Or I will be soon enough. I got you a sandwich, if you're hungry. I don't mind starting early so you can go eat."

Logan still hadn't turned around to face James, and the resulting silence unnerved him until James finally spoke.

"You got me a sandwich?"

"Sure, I was stopping for one anyway. I thought you might be hungry. If not, I can always eat it for dinner later."

Plastic lid securely in place, Logan spun around to grab a straw and smiled at James, who looked more confused than anything else.

"Anna's supposed to work with me today."

"She needed the day off, so I offered to cover her shift."

"But you're working tonight, you can't leave the store without a manager."

"John said he'd be here. It's fine, James. I'm taking Anna's shift for today."

James nodded slowly, Logan not missing the deer-caught-in-headlights expression. So James _was_ trying to avoid him. Now that he was stuck, he was afraid. Wanting to ask why James feared him, Logan knew that would only make him defensive. He had to handle this delicately.

"Why don't you go eat first? You probably haven't had a break at all, right?"

"Not really. I sat down for a few minutes earlier, but..."

"Go on, I'll clock in early. I don't mind," Logan smiled.

"Thanks," James replied softly, taking the broom with him to the backroom. Logan set down his cup and quickly filled a new one, this with root beer. He carried it into the back, where James was talking on his phone while unwrapping a sandwich that had a "J" marked on it.

"No, babe, really, it's okay. Anna brought me lunch from home, I'm fine. Promise."

One dark eyebrow rose as Logan stared down at James, who immediately blushed and looked away. "Just a sandwich. Of course it's whole wheat. Some kind of lean turkey." James bit into ham and roast beef between bread that was far from whole wheat. "Yeah, I'll probably be home when you get there today, I think I can leave early."

Logan's face fell. He set down the drink and James offered him a grateful smile. "John's closing, and he'll be here early, so...yeah. Dinner should be ready by the time you get home. No, I did that before I left for work this morning. I'll do the floors tomorrow when I'm off."

At the sound of the bell's tinkle, Logan glanced behind him and then whispered to James, "Let me know if you need anything."

James nodded, and as Logan breezed through the door to the shop, he heard, "I love you, too. I have to go."

Gut twisting at the words that confirmed what he'd already suspected, Logan pasted a fake smile on his face to greet the customer while he wondered again just why he was here. James was in a relationship; he was very obviously taken. What in the world did Logan hope to gain by spending time with him?

There was no way this could end happily. Life didn't usually go the way he'd written it in those stories. He needed to keep in mind that they were nothing more than that—stories.

But that didn't mean James didn't need a friend, and Logan could be that to him if nothing else. From what he could see James had none of those, which left an opening that Logan was determined to fill.

 _Everyone needs friends, right?_

It never even crossed Logan's mind that perhaps he did, too.

* * *

Twenty minutes later James returned. "I'm done now, if you want to go eat."

"Thanks. Are you leaving early just because I'm here?"

"I have things to do at home. As long as you're here, I might as well."

"I wish you wouldn't. You know it gets crazy between three and six, I could really use a hand."

"I'm supposed to be off at five and John should be here by then anyway."

"Fine, then at least hang out with me until five? Please, James. I need you."

The last comment was enough to get James finally looking at him, expression surprised. "You do?"

"Of course. I'm not Superman, you know," Logan chuckled.

"John seems to think you are."

"John's deluded. But smart enough to see the value in having you around, so I guess he has his good qualities."

James made a sound of disagreement. "I don't know what he sees in me or why he kept taking chances on me. I was such a fuck-up."

Glad the shop was empty at the moment, Logan bit his lip before replying. "He saw potential. He knew you had it in you, that you had a good heart. I remember you telling me just before I left that you wanted a normal life. Looks like you found it, huh?"

James swallowed, gaze slipping to the side as he reached for a rag to wipe down the counter. "I guess as normal as it'll ever be."

"No more paps chasing you down?"

"Hardly ever now."

"That's good," Logan said lightly. "You uh...happy? Things good at home?"

"Perfect."

"Great." When there was nothing more from James, who had obviously decided the conversation was over, Logan said, "I'm gonna go eat."

"Cool."

Logan spent the time trying to figure out how to get James to open up. What did they really have in common? Nothing, outside of a few inexplicable kisses. If he brought those up now, James might think he was flirting or trying to make a move and that would send him running faster.

Or would it? Wasn't James the one asking about a kiss the first night they met up again? That felt like a dream now, James relaxed around him and laughing, trying to talk him into taking his job back so they could close together every night. What had happened between then and the next day to make James fear him?

 _Scott. I don't know what happened or why, but Scott changed things somehow. So much that James is afraid to even be in the same room with me, and lied to Scott about me being here today. Maybe Scott's a jealous boyfriend and knows that we have a history._

That sounded close to home, but Logan thought there was more to it. How to get James talking, though? How to make that flirty guy come back out and smirk at Logan while being indignant that there were no kisses to be had?

Maybe James just needed to be reminded.

* * *

Once the afternoon rush hit there was little time for talk outside of, "Can you bring out another box of straws?" or "The vanilla's jammed, can you take a look at it when you have a second?" It wasn't conducive to wearing down James' guard, but it at least helped them feel like partners in a nightmare they both shared.

Logan covered the front while James sat down for a well-deserved break around four. He knew time was running out, that he only had an hour at most to get James talking, and felt the press of desperation growing. Logan was distracted while wiping down the machines, unaware that James had stepped into the room until he spoke.

"Want to take your break before I go?"

Knowing that would cut down on the remaining time they had together, Logan shook his head. "Nah, I'll be taking my lunch break soon anyway. That was quite a rush we had, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it hasn't been that busy in weeks. The hotter it gets outside, the more people want something cold. Plus school's totally out now, so...you know. Kids everywhere."

"Yeah," Logan nodded.

"What about you, are you done? You said you were back from college but I don't know if you have another degree to get or..."

"Uh, no. I got the only degree I wanted, unless I decide to go back to school and get a teaching certificate. Which I guess one day might come in handy."

"Teaching? What did you study?"

"English. Journalism. I'm uh...a writer, actually."

"A writer?" James echoed, eyes wide as he finally gave Logan his full attention. "I did not expect that."

"No? What do you see me as?"

"I don't know, you just seemed really smart in school. Weren't you always on the honor roll and stuff in junior high?"

"I was," Logan agreed. "You noticed that?"

"I remember seeing you on the stage at assemblies a lot. You always looked nervous."

"Yeah, I don't like being paraded in front of people. I was terrified to give my valedictorian speech, but that actually went better than I expected."

"Wish I could've seen that," James smiled. "I was homeschooled once I moved to Hollywood. Not nearly as much fun as it sounds."

"Did you graduate?"

"Um. No." Blushing now, James suddenly decided the floor needed to be swept—again. "Got kind of messed up on drugs. It's crazy how easy it is to find that stuff. I was fifteen and getting into all these parties and it was everywhere. My manager pretty much looked the other way, which still blows my mind. I was a kid, I needed direction, you know? Not someone to let me do whatever the hell I wanted. I needed structure."

Logan nodded slowly. "And you finally had enough? Came home to find structure?"

"I just needed to get away from it. It would've killed me eventually, but I didn't know that then. I just needed...home. You know?"

"I do," Logan replied. "I remember once being so homesick that I drank all night and watched some stupid show that reminded me of home. Not one of the smartest things I've ever done."

James tilted his head, studying Logan with a smirk. "I can't imagine you getting wasted."

"It's happened twice in my life, and won't ever again. Sorry you missed it," Logan chuckled.

"I don't drink anymore, either. It's harder to resist temptation when you're drunk. Not that I put myself in situations where drugs are these days, but if I wanted some I could find it. Easily. So...you know. I stay away."

Nodding again, Logan ventured, "I heard Scott helped you clean up?"

James' face froze for a second, but then he shrugged. "Yeah. If not for him I'd probably be dead."

"So you feel like you owe him your life."

"Something like that. He's good for me. Keeps me on the right path."

"And what do you do for him in return?"

"Whatever he asks," James answered in a clipped tone.

"I'm not trying to-"

"Look, I'm not going to stand here and defend him to you. You don't know what I've been through, you have no idea how much he helps me, because you took off the second I showed up here. So don't make me look like a-"

"Calm down. I didn't mean to-"

"Why the fuck did you have to kiss me that night? Why couldn't you just drive away and leave me in peace? The last thing I needed was-"

"Wait, _you're_ asking _me_ that? You kissed me first! You ran off to Hollywood! If you think you're the only one here who's-"

The bell tinkled, silencing them both immediately and forcing Logan to pretend that they hadn't been having a screaming match while James disappeared into the back room. "Hi, welcome to Frozen Delights."

Three minutes later Logan was ringing up the couple when James dashed by _sans_ apron. "I have to go."

Biting his tongue to keep from yelling out a stinging remark, Logan instead smiled and quoted the total to the customers. It wasn't until they'd left and he was alone in the building that he let out his frustration, kicking the back door hard enough to leave him limping for the remainder of the night.

When John asked about the injury, Logan only said that he'd tripped earlier and explained that James had left suddenly. John rubbed his face and sighed. "I'm worried about him. I hope he's not back on drugs, but he sure is acting strange over the past month. Maybe I'll talk to Scott about it."

"You know what?" Logan suggested. "I got James talking a little bit today. Why don't you let me take a stab at him? Schedule us together more, like today. We work well as a team."

That wasn't a lie. It was only when there were no customers in the building that the problems started.

"I suppose I can pull a few more nights, if it'll help him. You really think you can get through to him, Logan?"

Logan honestly wasn't sure. What he did know was that he wasn't ready to give up yet.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N—Reminder that I don't own these characters. All credit goes to the creators of "Big Time Rush."

Also for some reason line breaks aren't working properly lately so hopefully it isn't too confusing.

*#*#

On the first day they were scheduled to work together, James called out sick. Luckily Logan was able to get Rebecca to come in for a few hours to help out, but he spent the entire shift angry and wondering why James hated him so much. James had no room to be mad at Logan for the kiss and run, not when he'd started the trend.

On the second day, John showed up instead of James. Logan's face fell when he saw him.

"He called out again?"

"He asked for a switch. Said something came up and Scott needed him, so he's working for me tomorrow."

"Which is my day off. Convenient."

"I'm worried about him, Logan. You need to talk to him."

"Kind of hard when he won't even show up to work, isn't it?"

The following day James did show up, obviously feeling it was safe because Logan wasn't scheduled. What he didn't count on, though, was Logan arriving at two o'clock with a pizza decorated with all of James' favorite toppings (which John had happily been willing to divulge when Logan asked).

"What are you doing here?" James asked upon discovering Logan in the back room.

"I brought lunch. A peace offering. Truce?"

Though he was visibly fighting a concession, he finally said, "Depends. What's on the pizza?"

Logan lifted the lid of the box and watched James' face morph into ecstasy.

"That's not fair, you're totally cheating."

"Whatever it takes." Logan held out a hand. "I'm sorry I upset you the other day. Truce?" he repeated.

"I really hate you right now," James whispered, his gaze saying the opposite. "Just for today, I guess." He shook hands with Logan. "Are you leaving?"

"No, I thought we could have lunch together. Unless you have other plans?"

James once again struggled with an answer. Logan waited it out, heaving an inner sigh of relief when James shook his head. "Not today. Scott's at work. But I have to call him," he added quickly.

"That's fine."

"And you can't-"

"I'll be quiet as a mouse."

"Thanks," James replied after biting his lip and looking a tad embarrassed. "He worries about me. It's because he cares. A good friend should, right?"

"Hey," Logan said softly. "Can we at least be honest with each other? I know he's more than a friend. If there's anyone who would understand that, it's me. You don't have to lie to me."

James looked uncomfortable but had no answer to that. His phone rang and he jumped, Logan sighing as he stepped away. "I'll grab us drinks while you take that."

He informed Anna that James would be taking his lunch break, then carried two cups of soda to the back room in time to hear, "Yeah, Anna again. No, babe, it's not like that, she doesn't have a thing for me. I swear. She's got a boyfriend that she's crazy about. She just likes to do nice things for people. Uh, today it's a salad. Yeah, she knows I don't eat anything unhealthy."

Logan frowned at James as he took a seat across from him and set down the drinks.

"I already have it planned, it should be ready by the time you get home. A new salmon recipe I found, I think you'll really like it. Right. Okay, I'll call you on my break. I love you. Bye, babe." James hung up the call and before Logan could say a word, he warned, "I don't want to hear it. Stay out of it."

Watching James dig into a slice of pizza as if he hadn't eaten anything so good in years, Logan tried, "At least explain to me why he can't know you're eating pizza."

"Pizza's bad for you," James stated around a mouth full of food. He swallowed and devoured the second half of the slice, eyes closing as if to savor the taste. "Too much grease. Can't eat pizza."

"But you obviously love it. Does he control what you eat, too?"

"Shut up, Logan. Please. Let me enjoy this without the guilt."

"Fine," Logan laughed, offering James another piece while gesturing to the drink. "Drink some of that first, though, I don't want you to choke."

"What a way to go, though, huh?" James joked, then sucked down half the cup of root beer. "He doesn't know I drink this stuff, either. I'm gonna be so fat with you working here. Eat something, don't make me the only pig."

"I'm going to," Logan smiled, waiting until James bit into the second slice to take one for himself. "Why can't he know I'm here?"

"He thinks you want me."

Logan choked on the food, reaching for his soda.

"Careful. And you were worried about _me_ choking?"

After wiping his mouth with a napkin and regaining control of his breathing, Logan asked, "Why would he think that? Does he know we kissed?"

"Hell no, do you think I'm stupid enough to tell him that? He'd make me quit on the spot."

"But why? We can be friends, can't we? What's the harm in working together?"

"He worries about me."

"You've said that before. What is it he thinks I'm gonna do, fuck you over the counter after closing?"

It was said in the manner of something ridiculous, but James stopped chewing and his eyes darkened as he stared at Logan. "Why would you even suggest something like that?" he whispered.

"It's...I was...it was just an example. Of something...ridiculous."

"Yeah," James replied, drawing the word out and picking up his cup to sip through the straw until all that remained was ice. "I'm gonna go get more of this. Don't eat all the pizza."

"I can promise that I won't."

Logan's mind was spinning as it seemed to do a lot around James. It was obvious that the idea wasn't something James found disturbing, which of course caused Logan's brain to get stuck on the vision.

The sound of footsteps preceded, "Stop picturing us fucking on the counter. It's not gonna happen."

"I wasn't!" Logan hissed, face brick red. "It was just a figure of speech."

"Dude, I know you're the English major here, but that's not a figure of speech. You meant actual fucking on the counter."

"Look, can we just forget it? I was trying to make the point that Scott is threatened by something that he shouldn't be. You're obviously very much in love with him and working with me isn't going to change that."

"He doesn't know that yet, though. So for the moment, you're a threat. You're young and hot and spending time alone with me, so that automatically makes you a danger. He worries about me leaving him."

"He's an idiot, then. You worship him, doesn't he see that?"

James shrugged. "We fight sometimes, like any couple does."

"Do you worry about him leaving you?"

"All the time."

"Why would he, though?"

"I'm a fuck-up, Logan. We've been through this. You didn't see how I was when I came back here."

"I did, James, I saw you the night before I left."

"For what, ten minutes? That was the day I first got back, I was out of my mind on drugs."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You weren't high when you came in here. You were scared and running away, but you weren't high. I've seen that, I know what it looks like. If you're trying to convince yourself that the only reason you let me kiss you that night is because you were under the influence of something, that's a lie."

" _Let_ you kiss me? I didn't have a choice, you ambushed me! Then you just fucking drove away like nothing had happened."

"What the hell did you do back in junior high, James? You cornered me at the bike rack and kissed me with no warning, then just ran off after your famous, 'I have to go.' I thought I'd see you in school the next year but you were gone."

"Oh, forgive me for trying to do something with my life."

"Then forgive me for the same thing. I had to go away to college, okay? I didn't plan to kiss you that night."

"Well I didn't plan to kiss you, either! It was the perfect opportunity so I took it, we were finally alone and I-"

"Guys?"

Both of them looked toward the door, where Anna was peeking in. "Sorry to interrupt, but Scott's here."

Dread mixed with a terror so intense Logan thought James might faint crossed his features. "No," he whispered, reaching for his phone. "No, not now, not right now, please...Logan, you have to-"

"I'm gone." Picking up his cup and paper plate to leave no trace behind, Logan raced out the building's back door and into his car, driving away from the shop as fast as he safely could.

* * *

I wasn't afraid for me so much as James. He might not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he certainly wasn't stupid and if James was terrified, he had a reason to be.

I only hoped this didn't keep him away from me in the future. True, we'd ended up arguing again (it seemed we always did once the kiss was mentioned), but I still felt like I'd made some headway. He opened up a little. The pizza managed to break down his guard.

Maybe next time I'd bring him donuts. Or pie.

But it didn't look like there would be a next time. I spent the entire afternoon thinking about him, finally caving and calling the shop around 4:30. I was worried, especially when Anna answered the phone—she should've been gone at three.

She explained to me that James had to leave suddenly, had called John in early because he wasn't feeling well. I hoped the pizza hadn't made him sick, but I doubted his sudden illness had anything to do with pizza. I later spoke to John, who was relieved I'd called because James said he wouldn't be in the following day, either. This made no sense because our shifts didn't overlap at all.

John reiterated that he was worried about James and if this kept up, he'd have to consider letting him go.

"Isn't there anything at all you can do?" he asked me.

But short of going to his home, which I knew would be the worst thing I could possibly do, there was nothing except to wait for him to come back to the shop.

Surprisingly, he did the next day. Of course he did it before I was due in for the evening shift, but still, he showed up.

Which would've been fantastic, except the reason he went to talk to John was to quit.

* * *

"What do you mean he came in to quit?"

"Exactly what I said. Sit down."

Logan took the only other chair in John's office, a folding one in front of his desk that was rarely used outside of interviews. Neither of them was worried about the shop; it was a slow time and Anna was manning the front.

"But I don't understand. He said this was his happy place. He loves it here, John, why would he quit?"

"He said it was best since he can't use both arms anyway. He was wearing a sling."

Logan's stomach dropped, fear curling up into his belly. "He had a broken arm?"

"Fractured. Took a fall on his way home the other night, which is why he called out today."

He kept his mouth shut, but it didn't escape Logan's attention that the day James had possibly been caught having lunch with him, James had "taken a fall."

"I talked him out of it, at least long enough to find a replacement. He suggested I promote Anna and hire someone new."

Logan shook his head slowly. "This is no accident, John. You know that, right?"

"What else could it be? The kid's clumsy, especially when he's on drugs."

"He's not on drugs!" Logan hissed. "I'd know it if he was. It's my fault, I brought him pizza and Scott showed up, Scott hates me and-"

"There was a stipulation."

After a long silence where the fear turned into nausea, Logan nodded for John to continue.

"He asked if I would make sure not to schedule you two together. Demanded it, really. Said that was his condition, and if I couldn't promise him that, he was going to quit on the spot."

Hurt more than he would've expected, Logan couldn't reply. He looked down at his shoes, not wanting John to see that he was fighting tears.

"In order to make that happen, I have to cut someone's hours. I could cut his, since he's the one-"

"No. Cut mine. He loves this job."

"I'm sorry, Logan."

"Do you want me to quit?"

"Absolutely not. This place still needs you, and I need to have peace of mind when I'm not here because you two are the only ones I trust to run this place right. It may not be a huge chain, we're just one little shop, but it's my dream come to life and I want it looked after."

"This is my fault. I shouldn't have tried to...I was just trying to get him to open up, John. It was working, too. He talked to me. He-"

"Did he say anything that might explain why he's acting the way he is?"

Logan looked up. "It's Scott."

"It is not Scott, he's the one keeping James afloat."

"He's the one keeping James a prisoner. Did you know he controls what James eats? Who he talks to? That's not normal, John."

"Look, I don't get involved with their home life. He's keeping James straight and that's all I need to know."

"James is terrified of him, don't tell me you don't see that!"

"What I see is that since you came back, James isn't himself. Now I'm not blaming you for that, you hardly talk to the guy. But for some reason you make him nervous and I'm more than happy to split up your shifts if that helps him."

Logan couldn't argue that. It only made him feel worse. In the interest of keeping James safe, he nodded and stood up. "Fine. He won't ever have to see me again. I'll make sure to stay away if I'm not working."

"Thank you. I'm sorry about all this, Logan. I love you both like sons."

"I know." Needing to get away, he turned toward the door.

"Hang on, he asked me to give you this."

Halting, Logan glanced back over his shoulder to see John holding out an envelope that was blank on the outside. Heart hammering in his chest, he reached over to grab it.

"Go ahead and take a few minutes to read it now before you get started out there. I'll wait a little longer before I take off."

"Thanks. How's your mom?"

"Been better. Also been worse. The doctors say she's a fighter, so as long as she keeps fighting..."

"Yeah. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

Not wanting to open the letter right away, Logan sank into the breakroom chair he'd used before when sharing a pizza with James. The memory of James happily devouring it made him smile even through the nausea that kept trying to overtake him whenever he thought about the fact that James ended up with a fractured arm later that night. Logan wasn't stupid, either, and he didn't believe in coincidences like that.

Anna walked through on her way to the bathroom, and Logan was ready when she came back out. "Hey. What happened after I left yesterday?"

Her inquisitive expression morphing to a frown, she sighed. "That was really bad. I think I got James in trouble and I feel horrible about it."

"How?"

"I guess he'd told Scott that I brought him lunch or something? After you left I went back out there and Scott asked me what kind of salad James was eating. I didn't know any better and I said he was eating a pizza. I was smart enough to know not to mention you, of course, but the pizza was enough to set him off. He went into the back and started yelling at James, thank God there were no customers in here. He just kept saying things like "I can't believe you lied to me" and "You know what this means, James."

"What did James say?"

"I couldn't really hear what he was saying, he was too quiet. A few minutes later he came out and told me John was on the way, that he had to leave early and could I handle it alone for ten minutes. I said yeah, of course, and they left."

"Did he look scared, Anna?"

"I wouldn't say scared. More like...what's the word. Um...more like sorry? Guilty? Like he knew he'd done something really bad."

Logan nodded, imagining it.

"And then he hurt himself going up the stairs that night, poor guy. Talk about a bad day."

"Right," Logan replied slowly, wondering how nobody else saw the connection that was so obvious.

"I mean, I know Scott can be a little abrasive about being healthy and stuff, but it's a good thing James has him around to take care of him."

"You guys all act like James isn't capable of taking care of himself. Why do you think that?"

Surprised by the question, Anna shrugged. "Well, he says it himself. That he can't be trusted alone and needs someone to look after him. I guess that might sound weird for a guy his age, but he's been through so much. He's always had someone take care of him, you know? Like his manager or agent or whatever. Then he came here and was alone and Scott was there for him."

"What about his parents?"

"You know, I never really asked. I don't think he sees them much." The bell made its tinkling noise and Anna jumped. "Shit, I gotta get out there so John can leave. You're starting soon, right?"

"Yeah, in a few minutes. I'll be right out."

Once alone, Logan braced his forehead on his hand and closed his eyes. They all believed James needed Scott because _he_ believed it. How long had it taken Scott to drill that into James' head? Probably not long, if James was in a desperate and scared place.

 _I just needed to get away from it. I just needed...home._

He'd found a home. Sure, he was off the drugs and eating healthy, taking care of himself. But how much more damage did Scott do to his mental psyche?

How much damage did Scott do to him physically?

Shaking off a chill at the thought, Logan slid his finger under the sealed flap of the envelope and extracted a folded sheet of notebook paper.

 _I don't know where to start. I want to apologize for getting you involved in this. I know you're just trying to help and be nice because that's how you are. But you can't help. This is my life and I'm doing the best I can and I have to live it my way._

 _John probably told you I quit. It's nothing against you, but it's best this way. I know you don't understand, but I can't take any chances and we're both better off if we don't see each other again._

 _Thanks for the pizza. And the sandwich. You'll never know how much it meant to me that you cared enough to do that for me. Sometimes I wish we could go back to that night I came home and I could convince you not to move. My life would be so different now. I never told you this, but when I came home I was hoping to see you. When I thought of home, I always thought of you._

 _So thanks for the kisses and for giving me some good memories I'll never forget. When you remember me, remember me like that._

 _Good luck with your writing. Maybe one day I'll see your name on a book and read it. I hope you find someone special who makes you happy._

 _And because I know you'll worry about me, let me just say that you don't need to. Scott will take care of me and I'll find another job. Watch over John for me though, he's really worried about his mom. Be there for him when I can't be._

 _Goodbye._

 _*#*#_

I don't know how long I sat in the breakroom with the letter open in front of me. It was Anna who finally dragged me from my thoughts, asking when I was gonna clock in because she needed help. I didn't even realize John had left.

I worked my shift like a zombie, causing Anna to ask me four times if I was okay because I "didn't look good." No, I really wasn't okay. The thoughts weren't just spinning but crashing through my mind this time, like a thousand meteors hurling through space and into each other before burning up on entry. I wouldn't allow them to touch down, not until I could be alone to face them.

Anna stayed with me until closing for once, probably afraid to leave me alone. I didn't mind and was grateful for the company and help so that I could get out faster after wrapping up the closing duties. As we said goodnight she hugged me for the first time, and I allowed it because...I guess I needed a hug as badly as she needed to communicate to me that things would be okay. She had no idea what was upsetting me, except maybe a vague inkling that I was worried about James, but I was touched that she cared.

I sat in my car for a long time after we said goodnight, memories of my last kiss with James intertwining with the thoughts I finally allowed myself to have. I was overwhelmed by the letter, by the revelations he'd let slip, but more than that I was desperate to fix this and get him away from Scott. My natural tendency to rescue James came to the surface, but the more I thought it through the more hopeless it seemed.

I could call the police and report domestic violence, but two things about that idea turned me against it. One, I had no proof. There would surely have been no witnesses. I didn't believe for a second that the fracture had happened on the stairs, but even so I doubted anyone else lived with them so of course no one could corroborate any of it. Even if the police believed me that there was cause to investigate, everyone in James' life would only sing Scott's praises.

Two, and most importantly, it could end badly for James. I couldn't take a chance with that and make things worse for him. The truth was that the best way I could help James was to stay away from him.

I wasn't happy with that option, it was the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn't see any way around it. He'd asked me nicely to stay away from him, and though it killed me to think I was failing him by leaving him to his fate, what else could I do that wouldn't put him in danger?

I closed my eyes in the dark alley, the letter open in my hand, and let my mind drift. He'd been so beautiful that night, hair scraping his jacket and eyes full of life as he asked, "That's it? You're just gonna leave?" Then the night four years later, when he'd tried to convince me to take my job back so we could work together. Well, he'd gotten that wish, and it had turned sour for both of us. He'd wanted me to kiss him that night, too, and I was stupid enough to waste that opportunity. It was too late the next time we met up; Scott had reminded him who he belonged to.

But hadn't he belonged to me first? On the grounds of a junior high school, he'd claimed me. For fun, for curiosity's sake, for a dare...who really knew why James had done it?

" _We were finally alone and I-"_

There hadn't been a chance for James to finish that sentence. Anna had arrived to break up the moment.

 _We were finally alone and you what, James? What? How many times had you seen me before, how many times had you wanted to kiss me before that? Why did you wait until the day before you left to do it? How different would our lives be if you'd stayed? If we were together when you left?_

" _Sometimes I wish we could go back to that night I came home and I could convince you not to move. My life would be so different now."_

How different would our lives be if _I'd_ stayed?

" _When I thought of home, I always thought of you."_

I think that's the line that hit me hardest. I was home for him as he'd been home for me. Neither of us had said that, though, so we tortured ourselves for four years each under the impression we were alone in our feelings because they made no sense.

At least in my case it was because they made no sense. In his case...I didn't really know.

And I never would know. Now it was too late for me to ask. He'd begged me to stay away and for his sake, I had to obey.

When I finally pulled out of the alley and drove home along streets that were quiet and dark, the only thing that gave me consolation was that he hadn't quit. Even if I didn't work with him directly, his presence at the shop would be enough for me to know he was okay. If he started missing work again I'd know, because I'd be called to cover his shifts. I could at least count on John to let me know if anything bad happened to him, right?

That worked well for my peace of mind for two weeks, until the day I walked into the shop and saw the following's week's schedule. There was a new name at the bottom of the schedule, one I didn't recognize. Anna's name had been moved up to the manager's section, and the name I stared at every day and said a silent prayer for was gone.

James had finally quit.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N-Reminder that I don't own these characters. All credit goes to the creators of "Big Time Rush."

* * *

*#*#

Perhaps sensing that my reason for working at the shop was now a thing of the past, John took me aside and begged me not to leave. With James gone, he needed me there more than ever. Part of me wanted to quit anyway, as the memories of James left me feeling empty, but my novel continued to be at a standstill so it wasn't as if I had anything better to do with my time. I went home that night and talked it over with Rusty, and in his non-verbal way he agreed that I should keep the job—at least until Anna was capable of running the place like clockwork the way James and I could.

Rusty also heard a lot of whining and regret from me that I won't repeat here, and as usual he was the great listener I needed. I may not have had a human friend anymore (a realization I didn't come to until after I'd stopped talking to James), but there's nothing like a dog to make you feel loved and accepted no matter what.

With Rusty's help I came to terms with the fact that I would never see James again and never really know if he was okay. It was difficult and took over a month of one-sided discussions, most of them taking place on my bed with Rusty's chin on my leg as he stared up at me. I still had the dreams, though, which had returned when James departed my life, and I made it a habit to read the local news every day just in case.

In case of what, I never admitted to myself. I can say it now, that I was looking for any sign of domestic abuse that might have to do with James, but apparently he'd been right when he said he was better off without me in his life. I never saw anything that could be remotely related to him or Scott.

Sometimes, though, life does work out like the stories I used to write. Sometimes when you least expect it, fate throws a curveball at you.

* * *

Three months after James quit Frozen Delights, Logan stumbled across him at the grocery store, of all places. While standing in line at the checkout and letting his eyes skim over the ridiculous tabloid headlines, Logan heard a voice he'd never thought he would again.

"Paper or plastic, ma'am?"

Heart jolting, Logan whipped his head to the right and peeked around the woman in front of him, who was stating that she preferred paper. The apron was black now and the shirt a tan color all of the clerks wore, but the bangs fell forward the same way as James bent his head to focus on bagging groceries.

James hadn't seen him yet. For a moment Logan considered bailing, not wanting to get James into any kind of trouble. Then sanity asserted itself to remind him he was doing nothing wrong. He was _shopping_ , for God's sake. Scott couldn't find anything wrong with that, could he?

Logan watched James smile at the woman as he handed over her bags, thanking her and wishing her a good night, and then a manager walked by and called out, "James, go ahead and take your break!"

"No," Logan whispered, face falling. "It's not fair, it's-"

"I will as soon as I get this line down, Chris!"

Logan's face immediately split into a grin. Someone was watching over him.

He greeted the cashier just as he heard what he'd been waiting for. "Can I get you paper or-"

The sentence stopped abruptly. Determined not to let this chance pass him by, Logan turned to smile into terrified green eyes. "Plastic's good. How are you?"

He felt like a monster for making James tremble and look like he wanted to run. "You can't be here."

"I'm just shopping. I swear, I didn't know you were here. We're doing nothing wrong, James."

James shook his head, gaze dropping. "Mike, I'm gonna go ahead and take my break now."

"James, wait, don't-"

But James was gone in a flash, running toward the back of the store. Logan waited all of three seconds before taking chase. When James disappeared into a back room, Logan followed.

"What the fuck are you doing? You can't be back here!"

"Please, James, just...I just need to know you're okay. Please, give me two minutes."

The pleading got through to James, who pressed his hands to his face as if to keep from screaming but then lowered them. "Why are you here?"

"I needed food for my dog."

Having not expected that, James let out a soft chuckle. "Seriously? You didn't know I was here?"

"I swear. I'm not gonna lie and say I'm sorry I ran into you, but...no. I didn't know."

James nodded, finally believing it to be true. "I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye. There was no other way."

"I know. And technically, you did say goodbye. In letter form. Honestly, James, are you okay? How's your arm?"

"You heard about that?"

"Of course I did. I would've come to see you if..."

"No. It's best you didn't. You shouldn't even be here now, if Scott shows up and sees us talking-"

"Does he do that? Check up on you without warning?"

"Sometimes," James admitted quietly. "Ever since he caught me eating pizza."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know."

"I know. It's over now. But you can't come back here."

"I'm not going to start shopping somewhere else just because your asshole boyfriend keeps tabs on you. It's a free country and this is the only store that stocks Rusty's favorite dry food."

"You can't order online?"

Logan's expression showed his dismay. "I shouldn't have to. James, you shouldn't live in fear of someone who's supposed to love you."

"He does love me."

"He hurts you. I don't believe for a second your fractured arm was from a fall."

"You don't know anything."

"I do, I know he hurts you and you deserve better, you don't-"

"Shut up, Logan, you don't know what you're talking about."

"But I do. Look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn't hit you. I dare you." When James dropped his gaze, Logan reached out to pull him closer by the apron. "Leave him, James. You can find someone who loves you, who won't keep you around by terrorizing you."

"He doesn't, okay? That was a long time ago, he doesn't do it anymore. He promised, that's done. As long as I do what he asks, there's no reason for him to-"

"Are you hearing yourself? Even if you didn't do what he asked, there's no reason for him to hurt you. I promise, you're worth more than that, you don't need anyone to take care of you. You can stand on your own, do what _you_ want. Eat what you want, go where you want, just please think for a second and-"

"I have to go."

"Oh hell no, you're not pulling that crap right now."

As James gripped Logan's hands to remove them, Logan turned them so that their fingers were intertwined and stepped closer until he had James up against the wall. He used the only thing that seemed to get through to James, kissing him hard until James fought to free his hands so they could get lost in Logan's hair and pull Logan closer.

The sound of a throat clearing behind Logan was what finally broke them apart, Logan stepping back as James wiped his mouth. "Sorry," James whispered to the girl. "It won't happen again."

"I saw nothing."

After she winked at James, Logan watched the clerk walk away and down a hallway.

"Is she trustworthy?"

"I think so," James sighed. "I hope so. I can't believe you did that."

"You were trying to run again. I'll do what I have to to keep you here."

"Do you not understand that if Scott ever found out about us I'd probably end up in a hospital?"

"Which is precisely why you need to leave him. And since when is there an 'us' to talk about?"

"Oh. You're right. That was just me, I guess. Look, I need to get back to work, my break's about over."

"Have you eaten anything tonight?"

"I'll get something at home later. Please don't start stalking me here, Logan. I need this job, I can't keep quitting them."

"I'm not going to avoid the place. And if you happen to be working when I come in, all the better. John will be happy to hear you're okay."

"How is he? How's his mom?"

"Why don't you call him and ask?"

"I can't. If Scott sees that number in my phone he'll-"

"Fine. I'll tell John you miss him. He's good, his mom is doing better. He misses you, though. We all do."

"Trust me, this is safer for both of us. At least it was until you showed up."

"Don't worry, I'm leaving." Logan took a quick look around before sneaking a soft kiss to James' lips. "Take care of yourself."

"Please go."

Not wanting to push his luck, Logan stepped away. He managed two steps before James dragged him back for a deep kiss, desperation evident in the way his hands were like claws on Logan's arms. Logan allowed it when James spun them to shove him up against the same wall, using the apron to pull their bodies together so that James whined softly. He was trembling again when he stepped back, but this time not in fear. "You have to-"

"I'm gone."

* * *

I'd picked up a few more items by the time I returned to the checkout lane. After apologizing to the cashier for my abrupt departure earlier, I checked out and asked him for a scrap of paper. He tore off a length of receipt tape and let me borrow a pen. I stepped aside to an empty lane to scribble a quick note.

 _I know you must be starving. I threw in a healthy granola bar, too, just to even it out. Have a good night._

I debated for a minute, but then added to it.

 _P.S. The show I watched when I was homesick was Class Act. You were home for me, too._

I wrapped the note around the bar and a bottle of root beer and secured it with a rubber band, then walked around the store until I found the girl who'd caught us kissing earlier. I told her that James said she was trustworthy and she swore to me that she was, so I asked her to deliver the goods to James. She promised to get it to him discreetly, and I thanked her.

I only hoped I wasn't getting James into trouble again.

* * *

Over the next week, Logan made more than one unnecessary trip to the grocery store, even tagging along with his mother once because "I'm just sitting here staring at a blank document anyway." That wasn't quite true, the document now consisted of three pages, but considering he'd been working on it since before he moved back home, three pages was an embarrassment.

The shopping trips were in vain, though, because he never saw James. He passed the girl who'd caught them kissing a few times (Sapphire, her name tag claimed her to be, which was a name Logan had never seen before but he supposed it was no stranger than Jade or Pearl) and she always greeted him with a wave and a secret smile. It gave Logan hope that James hadn't quit, which was his fear.

The following week he went in purposely looking for Sapphire (after satisfying himself James wasn't on the premises, of course). He found her unpacking crates of carrots and humming along to the song playing over the loudspeaker, and it endeared her to him even more so that when she turned and caught sight of him, he greeted her with a grin.

"Hey, stranger! Come to visit your hot guy today?"

Immediately panicking, Logan glanced around but no one was paying them any attention. "Shh, he's not my hot guy. He's just...a friend."

"Hmm. Could've fooled me the way you two were making out in the back room last week."

"That was...we weren't...look, is he working today?"

"Not yet. He'll be here in about an hour, I think. Want to wait around?"

"I can't," Logan sighed. "I was worried he quit because I never see him when I come in."

"He's new so he's bounced around a lot. Once he's been here awhile his schedule will be more stable."

"How long ago did he start here?"

"Uh...a few months? I think maybe two?"

Logan nodded, thinking that was about right if he waited for the arm to heal completely before finding a new job.

"He almost cried when I gave him that root beer, by the way."

Attention drawn back to Sapphire, Logan smiled. "He did?"

"Yeah. You'd think nobody had ever done anything nice for him before. He always eats so healthy, I bet it had been years since he had a soda."

"Not quite years," Logan smirked. "How does he seem? Is he happy when he comes to work? Really quiet, or does he open up at all?"

"Not at first. I tried in the beginning, because have you seen him? They paired him with me for the first few days and I gave him a crash course in supermarket life, and I tried to flirt but he just shut down every time. I thought maybe he had a girlfriend or something. It wasn't until I saw you two kissing that it made sense. By then we were talking more so I asked him about you. He says the same thing, that you two aren't dating, but when he talks about you he blushes a lot and gets this cute little smile on his face so if you're interested, go for it. It's definitely mutual."

"It's complicated," Logan murmured.

A walkie-talkie that Logan hadn't noticed at her hip suddenly came to life. "Sapphire, you on lunch break yet?"

"Shit," she whispered. "I didn't even realize it was that late." She unclipped the walkie and replied, "Going in a few, just finishing up a crate of carrots. Sorry, I was so caught up in the world of vegetables I lost track of time."

Logan chuckled, liking Sapphire more and glad James had someone like her to work alongside.

Without warning she turned back to Logan. "Can I ask you something? Do you know about Scott?"

Logan's expression immediately soured.

"That's all the answer I need. Want to have lunch with me so we can continue this conversation?"

"I would love that," Logan answered. "Anywhere you want, I'll buy."

"Deal," Sapphire grinned. "Meet me out front in five minutes."

* * *

They agreed on a small Italian place across the street that Sapphire swore was the best thing she'd ever tasted, and after a few bites of his food Logan could understand why.

"Even the garlic bread is amazing."

"Told you. I only have a half hour, so talk. What do you know about Scott?"

Hesitating, Logan bit his lip. The last thing he wanted to do was put James in more danger.

"Look, I don't know what it is between them. I've only seen him a few times but when he's around James is different. This guy acts all sweet and nice but there's something...I can't put my finger on it. Are they just friends? Are they dating? What's the story?"

"They live together." That was common knowledge, nothing that could hurt James.

"So...help me out here. Because that didn't answer my question."

"Have you tried asking James?"

"A couple of times. He said they're just friends, but he says that about you, too. So I know it's not necessarily true."

"The honest truth is I don't know for sure that they are more than friends. I referred to Scott once as his boyfriend and he didn't deny it. So I assumed that was the case."

"Then why would he kiss you?"

Finding her direct gaze too much for the moment, Logan glanced at everything else and finally settled on, "It's complicated. We've known each other a long time."

"Look, I know you're thinking that none of this is my business. I met the guy two months ago and you've known him forever but that's exactly why I'm talking to you about it. Because I think something's off and I think if anyone can do something about it, it's you. It's obvious you don't like Scott, either. Is he cheating on Scott with you?"

Again at a loss for words, Logan shrugged.

"Come on, you don't have to tell me everything, but you must care about him or you wouldn't be making extra trips to the grocery store hoping to run into him." When Logan remained silent, she added, "Nobody needs that much dog food in a week."

"Maybe I have a lot of dogs."

"Or maybe you're in love with the guy and know he's taken but can't walk away."

"We hardly know each other."

"You just said you've known him for a long time."

"Sapphire, please. If you think I haven't been trying to figure out a way to get him away from Scott for months, you're wrong. It's all I've been thinking about. But I can only do so much without his help, and even with his help I could be putting him in danger. He quit his last job to get away from me." The truth of that slammed home, because even though Logan had known it, saying it out loud hurt so much that his voice cracked. "Scott thinks I'm a threat-"

"Which you are if-"

"And because of that," Logan continued, speaking over her, "being around me puts James in danger. I don't know what to do," he admitted. "It has to be his decision to leave. And Scott's got his claws so deep into James that I don't see that ever happening."

Sapphire considered Logan's words before saying firmly, "Then you need to get your claws into him."

"No, I don't want that. I want him to stand on his own, not be dependent on someone else. Not even me."

"Fine, but the only way to get him away from Scott is to give him someone else to focus on. He has to know he has someone waiting if he jumps ship or he never will."

"You've known him two months and you can read him that well?"

"I'm good with people. I knew right away Scott was trash, just like I knew right away you're what he needs. You know how I knew?"

"Because he was kissing me?"

"Nope. Because of the look he gets in his eyes when he talks about you. Like you're his favorite thing in the world. It's this kind of faraway, wistful expression."

Reminded of the look on James' face the time he'd caught him sweeping the shop when he didn't know Logan was there, he said, "I've seen that look before. Once. I wondered what he was thinking about."

"My guess would be you. Look, Logan, I don't know the answer. I just know that you make him happy and Scott doesn't, and if he really is in some kind of danger, you're the only one who can rescue him. If there's anything I can do to help, tell me."

Logan thought it over for a moment. "Do they make pizza here?"

"Only the best."

"Sell it by the slice?"

"Not normally, but the manager has the hots for me. He'd do it for me."

"Perfect," Logan smiled. "I need you to do me a favor."

* * *

Twenty minutes later I watched James climb out of a car that probably cost more than my mother's annual salary. He leaned over to kiss Scott, making my stomach heave, but it made me feel better when he kept the kiss short and Scott had to pull him back for a longer one that was about nothing except ownership.

"Asshole," I muttered from my own car, which was parked a few rows back to keep James from spying it. Scott pulled away and I breathed a sigh of relief when he exited the shopping center.

It was ten more minutes before my phone buzzed, and when I read the text I smiled.

" _This time he did cry. Maybe tomorrow you can come have dinner with him in the breakroom. The boss won't mind."_

" _Does Scott ever eat in there with him?"_

" _He told Scott no one's allowed back there. You're safe."_

I sent back a thank you and asked what time his dinner break would be the following evening. Sapphire gave me an estimate. It was enough.

Tomorrow I might even bring dessert.

* * *

James' face when he walked into his break room the following evening was priceless. He was already pulling out his phone to call Scott and almost dropped it upon spying not only the food spread over the table but Logan standing behind a chair that he pulled away from it.

"You can't be here," he said weakly, but the fight was gone.

"Get your call out of the way so we can enjoy dinner together. You only have a half hour, right?"

James nodded, then his gaze fell on the covered cups he'd handled almost every day for four years. "You brought me yogurt?"

"Yes but it's melting fast so if you want it, you'll have to eat it before the food. Which I did my best to be healthy with. We have grilled chicken salads and corn on the cob."

Overwhelmed by being treated generously as usual, James appeared to melt. "How did you even get in here?"

"I have my ways. Please, James. Sit. I promise I'll leave after we eat."

There was no more prodding needed. James lowered himself to the chair Logan was holding out, and once he was scooted in Logan took a chair across from him. "Go on, call. He'll be suspicious if you don't."

"You can't-"

"I won't say a word."

Before placing the call, James allowed himself two spoonfuls of his favorite flavor of frozen yogurt, making happy noises as it dissolved in his mouth. "This is amazing. I miss that place so much."

"You already know we miss you."

"Shh."

After warning Logan, James pulled up Scott's number and pressed the phone to his ear. Logan wasted no time but divvied up the food between two plates as James talked.

"Hey, babe. Yeah, it's okay. Not too busy tonight. How was the gym?" As he spoke he continued to spoon in the yogurt, licking his lips between bites. "Oh, really? I figured you'd be home eating dinner by now. But that's good, I know you wanted to work more on your core. Yes, Saturday morning I'll have time to go with you. Just a chicken salad from the deli, nothing special. That vinaigrette you love so much."

James dumped ranch dressing over his salad, making Logan smirk.

"I picked up some corn, too. You know how much I love their corn on the cob. No, babe, of course not. I know better than to eat butter."

He used a knife to slather butter over the hot kernels, then smiled when Logan pulled fresh rolls from a bag. "Gimme," he mouthed, soon spreading butter over one of those as well.

"Oh, okay, I'll let you go. Talk to you on my last break. Love you, too. Bye."

He couldn't get the phone out of his hand fast enough, sinking his teeth into the corn with a groan of satisfaction.

"Should I be worried that you lie so easily?"

"I've never lied to you, Logan."

"Never?" Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I...well. Not without a really good reason. Did you bring anything to drink?"

"Sapphire said there was a vending machine up here, hang on."

Logan wiped his hands on a napkin and dug in his pocket for cash when James pointed a finger over his shoulder. "Behind you. I'll take a water."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, this is probably going to make me sick as it is. God, it's all so good. It is from the deli downstairs, right?"

"Yeah. Except the yogurt, of course."

"I should've known Sapphire had something to do with this. She asks about you all the time."

"She's really great. And cares about you a lot."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I missed you. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Honestly...yes. You hardly know me."

"I want to know more."

"Why?"

"Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you kissed me in junior high. Does that work?"

"Is it the truth?"

"Sadly, yes. Why did you do it anyway? Why did you kiss me that day?"

"I wanted to."

"That's it? That's all the explanation I get? I spent four years wondering, watched every episode of 'Class Act', every interview I could get my hands on. I never got an answer."

"You did that? Really?"

"Yes. I was obsessed."

"Sorry about that," James grinned, proving that he was anything but.

"You find this amusing? I was going crazy."

"It's only funny because now I know you suffered, too. When you took off for four years after kissing me, that's how I felt. Except I didn't think you'd ever come back."

"I didn't think you would, either."

"I wasn't planning to. If I'd known I might have to face you again one day, I wouldn't have kissed you at the bike rack."

Logan ran a napkin across his lips and sat back to study James. "So you did it thinking you'd never have to see me again? That's why you didn't do it sooner?"

"I'd been wanting to since sixth grade."

"Why didn't you?"

"You were so smart. Way too smart for a dumb drama guy like me. I never thought you'd want anything to do with me."

"James, I used to watch you every day during lunch. I sat in the library and stared down at you wishing I was one of your friends."

"Seriously? Then why didn't you ever talk to me?"

"Why didn't _you_ talk to _me_?"

"I was scared!"

"Well, so was I!"

"We're so stupid," James sighed, moving on to the salad. "I saw you alone that day and I knew I was leaving the next, and...I don't know. I just knew it was my only chance before I left forever. So I kissed you."

"And then ran away."

"Hey, you drove away!"

"I wanted you to suffer like I did."

"Well, I did. So we're even. Happy?"

"No. Because you're not." The sudden serious moment killed the light in James' eyes. "Why don't you leave him?" Logan asked softly.

"I love him."

"Do you really?"

"Yeah. I owe him so much."

"I owe my mom plenty, too, but I'm not going to live with her forever. He did a great thing by helping you, but that doesn't mean he owns you."

"It kind of does."

"No, James. Nobody owns you." Logan reached across the table to link fingers with James' free hand. "I don't know what you were going through when you came back here, but you're doing fine now."

"Only because I have Scott to watch over me. Without him, I'd end up on drugs again."

"I don't believe that. Is that what he tells you?"

"It's the truth, Logan. I'm weak on my own."

"I don't believe that, either. Are you just afraid to leave him?"

"Why would I leave him when I have everything I need?"

"Do you, though? You don't have freedom."

"Look what freedom did for me in Hollywood."

"You were fourteen years old. You didn't know any better."

James pulled his hand free and shook his head. "Who says I do now?"

" _I_ do. Trust the smart guy. He wants to see you happy."

"I think he just wants to kiss me."

"I won't deny that."

James laughed softly. "What's it gonna take for you to leave me alone?"

"The day I feel like you honestly want me to, I will. I left you alone after your letter, right?"

"You came here."

"Not intentionally. I didn't know you worked here."

"You did today, though."

"That's because you made it clear last time I was here that you missed me."

"I was delusional."

"You were no such thing."

"I think you should go now."

Logan stood up and rounded the table. "I'll go when you convince me you really want me to."

He leaned down but James rose to meet the kiss, hands sliding up Logan's sleeves to wrap around his neck, tongue diving into Logan's mouth eagerly. Logan allowed himself to sink into the kiss, enjoying it because it might just be the last. It wouldn't be the first time James kissed him only because he didn't plan to see him again.

"You want me," Logan whispered as he dragged James' hips closer. James' answer was to rub against Logan, eyes closed in ecstasy and mouth hungry. A shrill beeping from his phone made him jump, Logan gasping and backing away fast.

"No, it's okay, it's not him. It's just my alarm, so I'm not late going back. I wasn't done with you."

Logan groaned when James came at him again, ready for it and meeting the attack with an open mouth.

"Psst. James! Chris is heading back here!"

That was enough to make James stop. "Damn. Okay. You need to go."

Logan thanked Sapphire with a look before she ran off. "Will you get in trouble for me being here?"

"No, but if he walked in while we were making out, I might."

"Okay. Go on, I'll clean up."

"Thanks for coming." James pressed a quick kiss to Logan's lips. "And thanks for dinner."

"Thanks for not chasing me away. See you around?"

"Maybe."

Not satisfied with that answer, Logan pulled him in for another kiss.

"Fine. Next time park behind the building."

"Why?"

"Trust me." James winked before disappearing, leaving Logan hopeful.

Maybe Sapphire was right. Maybe all James needed was to know he wouldn't be alone if he left Scott.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N—Reminder that I don't own these characters, all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

# #

Over the next month I had dinner with James whenever I wasn't working and he was. We stopped meeting in the break room and instead ate in my car, which I dutifully parked behind the building and next to a dumpster so as to hide it as much as possible. With the windows up the stench didn't reach us, and between the heat from the food and our own amorous activities, there was enough fog to keep us hidden well.

I don't mean to make it sound like all we did was make out; there was a lot of talking, as well. James explained to me what it had been like away from home, how alone and scared he felt in the beginning. He'd never been on great terms with his parents, but even so they had been a stable force in his life. After the move his manager had pressured him to date big name stars, stating it would help advance his career, and so James had. It was those girls that introduced him to sex and substances—if they did it, it must be the thing to do. The more popular the show became, the more demands were made on James, and the more drugs he used to cope with the ever-increasing pressure. I heard about two near-fatal overdoses from a mouth barely able to speak through a flood of tears, and as I held James until his shaking stopped I wished more than ever that I'd never run away to college. When he admitted that he'd come home out of desperation to escape a paranoia and addiction he couldn't fight on his own, I regretted not being there to help him through it.

"I thought of you the whole flight home," he whispered into my chest. "I don't know why. I just knew that if anyone could save me, you could. You were normal. You were everything I wanted to get back to."

And then he'd found me without meaning to. I'd kissed him. He thought things would be perfect. He went in first thing the next morning and begged for a job from John, stating he'd do anything—trash, mop, clean the machines, whatever it took to get a job there. John had agreed to give the kid a chance, especially with me suddenly gone, and it was only the following day that James understood I no longer worked there and wasn't coming back.

"I was devastated. I'd been clean for four days and that sent me back over the edge. I was living with my parents but they didn't know what to do with me, they didn't even know me anymore. I was like a zombie, making it to work most days but then I'd get high after and barely make it back the next day. I started calling out a lot and sometimes not even calling. The most I could stay clean for was two days before I relapsed. It was so bad. John was gonna fire me but I begged him, because...it's so stupid, but I knew that if you ever came back to town, you'd stop in there. It was my only chance to see you. I needed time to really get clean. I talked to my parents and they put me in a rehab place, and that's where I met Scott. He was one of the counselors there."

More guilt crashed over me, but even through that I finally understood that James had cleaned up for me. For the hope that one day he would see me again.

"The program worked, but probably only because I had a reason to fight. Scott moved me in with him after the six weeks and within a week we were fucking. He was my first guy, if we don't count you, and I couldn't believe that this man who had his life in order could actually want me. He really did save my life, Logan."

I kept my mouth shut, but couldn't help but think that it was me who had saved James' life by giving him something to hope for.

The physical abuse hadn't started right away. Scott used other things to brainwash James—sex, verbal abuse, anything else he could find to break down James' self-confidence and will. Of course James didn't see it that way, but I knew it for what it was.

Control.

He controlled who James talked to, where he went, what he wore, what he ate, how he spoke. He controlled everything except what James thought about. And what James repeatedly thought about was me.

"Is that crazy? It's crazy, right? You hardly knew I existed but I just kept hoping that one day you'd come back. And then one day, you did. I was so shocked that I didn't even think about Scott for once. The only thing I ever fought him on was the job, I refused to quit the job, and when you walked in that night I knew it had all been worth it. I felt like I was eighteen again and you were flirting with me and all the bad stuff hadn't happened, it was my chance to have what I'd been wanting forever. But you didn't kiss me."

"I didn't want to get caught up in you again."

"Sorry I ruined that for you."

I laughed as James continued to tell me that when Scott called him that night, it all came back and he realized that just talking to me was putting both of us in danger.

"I knew the pain would start again if he knew about you."

"The pain" turned out to be blows to his stomach, hips, upper arms—anywhere bruises could be easily hidden. He'd used that briefly as the final punishment to make James obey every command, and it had worked. James hadn't defied him at all until I came along and gave him a reason to.

"Tell me the truth," I urged. "Was the fractured arm really because of pizza?"

"Yes, but I think he started suspecting I had feelings for you because I told him I needed to switch shifts to avoid you. I thought that was the smart thing to say, tell him you were a jerk, you know? But then he wanted to go kick your ass and I begged him to just leave it alone, let me handle it. He could probably tell I was terrified of you being hurt. I think the arm was a warning, a reminder that if I didn't behave it would be worse. He'd never broken a bone before. I had to get away from you. You understand that, right? He couldn't hurt you."

We had many deep talks where I tried to convince him to leave Scott, but it wasn't until a month later that I really understood why he refused to. He was afraid for me. He feared Scott would kill me. I argued that I could take care of myself and that fear was no reason to stay with someone, but he wouldn't hear it. He was convinced Scott would find a way.

"I'm more afraid he'll hurt _you_ ," I said during one of those discussions. "I couldn't live with myself, James."

"Better me than you."

"No. Absolutely not."

"He won't hurt me."

"He already broke your arm. What will it be next time?"

"It doesn't matter. I just want you safe."

"And I want _you_ safe. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"It counts for everything. It's the reason I'm here right now."

"Oh? I thought that was just because you like the way I get you off in-"

"Quit teasing me. I have ten minutes left and I don't want to waste them. Backseat. Now."

More and more that was how our dinner trysts were ending, and I certainly wasn't going to complain. As long as James was safe, and I knew he was when he was with me, nothing else mattered.

It was the moments he was with Scott that worried me.

* * *

About five weeks after Logan had first started meeting James for dinner, he received a phone call that changed his life. He'd been distracted all morning at work, lost in memories of the night before when James had wanted to take things further. Logan had argued that they weren't at all prepared for that and that since he felt guilty enough about the fact that he was helping James to cheat on a boyfriend, that was a line he wasn't willing to cross until he could officially call James his own. Instead of sex (or even making out, as was their habit whenever possible), they'd had a long discussion about James leaving Scott and for the first time Logan believed it would come to pass. Each night he spent with Logan, James gained more self-confidence and hope that he could do it and would survive.

"But you have to promise you'll be there for me," James had demanded, gaze boring into Logan's so that he couldn't look away. "I can't do it alone. I know you believe I can stand on my own, and maybe you're right. But without you I won't have the courage to do it. Swear to me that you'll be at my side through this, that you won't let anything happen to me."

"I promise I won't let him hurt you," Logan replied, sealing the oath with a kiss. "I won't leave your side. You'll come back to work with me at the shop and until we know it's safe, John will schedule us together every shift. All I have to do is tell him why and he won't-"

"You can't tell him. I couldn't face him if he knew everything."

"He'll love you just the same, James. And no one else needs to know."

There was a look of such devotion and trust in James' eyes that his next words weren't a surprise even though it was the first time he'd spoken them. "I love you."

Logan had smiled and kissed him tenderly, and then suddenly James' alarm went off and it was time to say goodnight. After one more brief kiss James sprinted through the dark and around the building, Logan watching him go with a contented sigh.

Those words were running through Logan's head when the shop's phone rang the following day. Anna was busy helping a customer and Logan picked it up absently. "Thank you for calling Frozen Delights, how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the manager." It was a man's voice, one that wasn't familiar.

"I'm the assistant, Logan. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I'd really rather speak to the manager. John, I believe his name is?"

"I'm sorry, John isn't here at the moment. I'd be happy to take a message, but he won't be in until tomorrow."

The man sighed, struggling with the decision, but finally said, "I'm calling about James."

Immediately alert, Logan straightened from the counter he'd been leaning on, body tingling from head to toe. "James?"

"Yes. This is his father. I'm sorry, I don't know how to say this, but James..."

His body now completely cold, Logan began to tremble. "Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"He won't be in for his shifts. I'm afraid I can't say how long, he's...well, he's in a coma. The doctors don't know-"

"Where is he?" Logan demanded, vaguely making the connection that James had obviously never told his parents he'd changed jobs.

"The hospital. Please have John call me if he has any questions, I know James is like a son to him."

"Please, Mr. Diamond, tell me where James is. I need to see him."

There was a pause, then he asked, "What did you say your name was? Logan?"

"Yes. I..." How to explain what he was to James? "Is Scott there at the hospital?"

"No." The answer was firm, confirming Logan's fears. "Are you a friend of Scott's?"

"No. I'm a friend of James. Please, Mr. Diamond." Logan's voice broke on the last word. "I need to see him."

Perhaps hearing what Logan wasn't saying, that he cared deeply for James, the man gave Logan the information. He agreed to call John and let him know, but after hanging up his first priority wasn't John; it was to get to the hospital as fast as possible.

Logan left Anna in charge of the shop and ran to his car, forcing himself to breathe once behind the wheel because he'd begun to hyperventilate. It was a few minutes before he trusted himself to drive. He spent two minutes on the phone with John, who was at a different hospital visiting with his mother, and the remainder of the drive praying that James would wake up.

Finding the Intensive Care Unit was easy; getting the staff at the front desk to let him back was another story. After three minutes of begging and pleading and being told that only immediate family was allowed on the ward, Logan was gently pried away from the desk by a weathered hand.

"Are you Logan?" the man asked, and the resemblance was there in the eyes and chin. Relieved, Logan allowed himself to be led to a corner of the small waiting room where a petite but elegant woman with a nervous gaze moved over to accommodate her husband's presence.

Logan sat across from them. "What happened? Was it Scott?"

The woman looked down at her feet, but not before Logan noted tears welling up in her eyes.

"How do you know our son?" Mr. Diamond asked instead.

"It's a long story. We've known each other since junior high, and we worked together at the shop. I...we're very close. I care more for him than I can explain right now. Please tell me what's wrong with him. What do the doctors say?"

"He may never wake up."

Mrs. Diamond buried her face in her husband's chest, sobbing as the man continued to speak.

"He was beaten to within an inch of his life, and strangled on top of it. The police said that when they got there, he was already unconscious but Scott was still trying to..."

Bile rose into Logan's throat. He'd promised to keep James safe. "When?"

"It happened last night. We received a call around midnight, somehow the police traced him to us, and thank God for that, but..."

Logan began to tremble again, grabbing at the tissue Mr. Diamond held out to him and pressing it to his eyes. "It's my fault," he whispered miserably.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's my fault," Logan repeated. "He was going to leave Scott. I didn't think he'd do it last night, I thought he'd wait until I could be there with him, he was terrified. If I'd known, I wouldn't have left, I would've stayed with him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

That got Mrs. Diamond's attention. She looked up in surprise. "He was going to leave Scott?"

"Yes. It took me months to get through to him, but last night I thought maybe...I should've left it alone."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "We may not have been the best parents but we love him and we tried, and then Scott came along and we thought he was a godsend. He cleaned up our boy."

"But then he slowly alienated us," Mr. Diamond added. "Turned James against us and...I don't really know what all he said. Eventually James stopped calling, and when we called him, Scott would answer. He said James didn't want to see us and it was best for his recovery. We trusted him."

"For awhile, we did,' Mrs. Diamond agreed. "By the time we realized he'd shut us out completely, it was too late. We even went to talk to him at the shop one day, but he wouldn't hear a negative word about Scott. 'He said you'd say these things' was all he said. We had no idea Scott was abusing James, though."

Logan had. It made him feel like a monster.

"Don't blame yourself," Mrs. Diamond commanded. "You were trying to get him away from Scott."

"And look what happened. He was so afraid for me, that Scott would hurt me. He switched jobs because of it, because he wanted to protect me. But I couldn't let him go. I loved him and I couldn't let him go. My selfishness practically got him killed."

"You did the right thing," she insisted.

"Will you still say that if he dies?" Logan asked miserably. "If he never wakes up?"

She couldn't meet his gaze then, and her husband grabbed her hand. "Did you say he switched jobs?"

"Yes. He was working at a supermarket downtown. I didn't know and I saw him there one day and...oh. I need to call them and let them know. Wait, where is Scott right now?" This felt to Logan like a question he was asking far too late in the game, one that should've been his first concern.

"Scott is in jail," Mrs. Diamond answered fiercely. "And if I have anything to say about it, he'll stay there for the rest of his life. He was arrested for assault and battery, as well as attempted murder. If James doesn't...well. It could turn into murder."

"It won't," her husband argued. "He'll wake up, he'll fight to-"

"For what? Scott was his life and now he knows he doesn't have Scott, what does he have to fight for?"

"Do you remember what the officer told us last night, Cheryl?" When she looked blank, he continued. "I'm not surprised, you were hysterical." Glancing at Logan, he added, "James was unconscious when they arrived, but he woke up briefly as they were putting him in the ambulance. He woke up long enough to say three words. 'I need Logan.' I think he's got something to live for."

Logan admitted softly, "He told me he loves me last night. I never got a chance to say it in return, but...I think he knows. I hope he does. What exactly are his injuries?"

"There's a lot of internal bleeding," Mr. Diamond sighed. "He was in surgery most of the night and they think it's contained, but of course he's still under observation for that. He's on oxygen and he's suffered a major concussion, which is what's causing the coma. They got the brain swelling down but...he's a mess, Logan. Even if he wakes up, there may be permanent damage. Neurological disorders, nerve damage, a compromised respiratory system. He could spend the rest of his life in rehabilitation, unable to even breathe on his own. You need to understand that now, that if he wakes up, he'll never be the same. I'm aware that he's not your responsibility, so-"

"I'm not leaving his side," Logan stated. "I promised him I wouldn't. I failed him last night, but I'll be damned if I ever make that mistake again. Can I see him? Please, I need to see him."

"Let me go talk to the nurse." Mr. Diamond stood up. "Give me a few minutes."

"Thank you, Mr. Diamond."

"It's Richard."

Grateful that these people didn't hate him or blame him for any of this, Logan closed his eyes to gain control before remembering he needed to call the supermarket. He discovered he had two missed calls, one from John and the other Sapphire. He called Sapphire first, but got voicemail. Realizing she was most likely working, he found the number for the grocery store and called that, asking to speak to her. After what felt like a long wait, she picked up the line.

"It's Logan."

"Oh my god, thank god. James didn't show up for work and I'm scared. Scott didn't look happy when he picked James up last night but I thought it was because of the family emergency, now I'm thinking-"

"Whoa, hold on. Slow down. What family emergency?"

"James didn't say, but he left right away with Scott."

"When?"

"Right after his dinner break. Scott showed up right when James was about to clock in from lunch, I saw him come into the store and I was surprised. He followed James to the back room and then James came out and told Chris he had to leave, it was a family emergency. Have you talked to him today? I know you're not allowed to call him but I was hoping maybe..."

The rest of her words were a buzzing in Logan's ear as it fell into place. They'd been stupid, so stupid, to think they were safe behind the building. All it took was for Scott to see them together once, and God only knew what all he'd seen, but it was enough to put James in the grave.

"I'm so stupid," Logan whispered, hating himself.

"What? Logan, are you okay?"

"No." He felt it coming, a breakdown rushing at him, so he closed his eyes to fight it off. When he trusted himself to speak, he said, "Sapphire, I'm at the hospital. James is in a coma. Please tell your boss that he won't be in for...I don't know how long. I'll be in touch when I know something more."

" _No_. Is he gonna be okay? Are you okay? Do you need me to go down there?"

"I'm with his parents. I haven't seen him yet, they're trying to get me back there. I...Sapphire, please pray for him." Some of the breakdown broke through to the surface, causing his next words to waver. "I need him."

"He'll come back, Logan. I know him, he's a fighter. He loves you, I know he does."

" _The doctors say she's a fighter, so as long as she keeps fighting..."_

John's words about his mother floated through Logan's brain, strengthening him. "I know he does, too. I just hope it's enough."

"Call me, okay? Don't even worry about this place, I'll talk to Chris and tell him...just that James is in a coma. He doesn't need to know anything else. But _I_ do, so please keep in touch with me. He's so special."

"He is," Logan agreed. Richard caught his attention with the wave of a hand. "I think they're gonna let me go back now."

"Good. Stay strong, Logan. He would for you."

He had, for four years. "I have to go."

* * *

As we followed a nurse down two hallways, I mentally prepared myself as if going into battle. I knew that what I was about to see wouldn't be pretty. Cheryl had insisted on accompanying me, perhaps not quite trusting me to be alone with James (and who could blame her, considering what his last boyfriend had done to him), and it was she who led me to his bed.

I won't waste time describing the scene around me except to say it was my first time on a trauma ward and the presence of impending death was overwhelming as I walked past beds filled with others who, like James, were fighting to cling to life. His situation had already been real to me, but this underscored it and cut deeply into me. I didn't hesitate when we stopped, but immediately rushed to his bedside, and there, finally, I fell apart.

He was covered by a heavy sheet to keep his body warm, most of it hidden from view. His torso was wrapped with tape and there was in IV dripping some kind of clear liquid into his arm. Between the neck brace, the gauze wrapped tightly around his scalp, and the plastic feeding tube inserted into his nose, he was barely recognizable. His eyes would have been, had they been open, but they were currently closed to keep him from facing a reality his brain wasn't prepared to confront.

All of that gutted me, left me weak enough that I had to hold on to the bed's sidebar in order to remain standing, but what struck me hardest were the bruises that deformed what I could see of his face and chest. They forced me to see in my mind his body being pummeled hard and repeatedly by huge hands that had in a moment become deadly weapons. A man he trusted had done this to him, and when I had the presence of mind to think about that, I understood Cheryl's need to accompany me.

Cheryl caught me as my knees gave out, showing a strength I wouldn't have expected from such a delicate-looking woman, and she tried to lead me away but I refused to move from his side. Instead I bent over the bed and sobbed. I was vaguely aware of a nurse approaching and Cheryl running interference so that I could remain, and I grabbed his clammy hand and held it to my face, crying for...who knows. I don't have any idea how long I stood over the bed, most of it is a blur of anguish and guilt. I gradually became aware that a man was speaking to me, gently coaxing me away from the bed but again I refused to move.

"If you don't, they won't let you come back. Please, Logan. James needs you, don't fail him by getting yourself banned from the unit."

That got through to me. I couldn't fail him, not again. I blindly followed Richard back to the waiting room, where Cheryl was ready with a box of tissues and a shoulder to cry on. I used both more times than I can count that day. I remember John arriving at some point, and how for about ten seconds I was angry at him and wanting to rage because he hadn't believed this was possible, he couldn't see that Scott was a monster, but when I saw a mirror of my own self-loathing reflected in his eyes, the anger faded. Sapphire texted asking for information, so I told her where we were but also explained that she couldn't see James; she came anyway. I called my mother and gave her an abbreviated version of the story, and she came down to be with me. No one stayed more than a few hours, realizing there was nothing they could do, and as the day turned to night it was the three of us who remained to take turns standing over James—his mother, his father, and me.

What I grew to hate most over the next few weeks was the lack of privacy on the ward. There was no real boundary between the beds other than a curtain that was closed only when changing him. Doctors and nurses came through often to refill the IV, change his dressings, examine him briefly. The internal bleeding was successfully stopped, which was a small victory, and the bruises slowly faded. Eventually he was even able to breathe on his own, and I celebrated by kissing lips that were chapped and dry but still perfect; they were the lips that had first captivated me eight years before in a deserted bike area, and they belonged to me. I vowed that no one else would touch them again and ignored that Scott had had similar ideas.

It was different. Mine came from a place of love.

* * *

Though my mother tried to talk me into coming home numerous times, I couldn't bear to. She finally gave up and instead made herself helpful by delivering fresh clothes to me daily and indulging me in long talks that kept me sane. Every few days I booked a motel room across the street from the hotel, using it only long enough to shower and catch a few hours' worth of sleep (and this only when I knew one or both of his parents were at the hospital); otherwise I slept in the ICU's waiting room. I took meals with Richard and Cheryl, always in the hospital's cafeteria, and we helped each other muddle through the guilt we all felt—them for giving up on James in the first place, me for being so selfish that I knowingly put him in danger each time we met up. I told my mother the story of myself and James, from junior high until our last moment together, and she berated me for keeping him a secret from her. I hadn't had a choice, not really. James needed us to be a secret.

It wasn't until James was put into a room of his own that I spoke to him aloud. Maybe I should have been doing that all along, but I had this ridiculous idea that he wouldn't have heard me over the machines and chaos of the ICU, and I hadn't bothered. There was also the fact that every time I began to speak, I couldn't continue because I broke down in tears.

By that time the situation was less critical, at least as far as his survival was concerned; his body was healing itself rapidly, which gave the doctors hope, but he was still dead to us mentally. His heart and mind were trapped in some kind of limbo that I couldn't get through, and those were the things I missed most. Finally left alone with James, I started to talk to him. Holding his hand tight, the words finally broke free.

"I miss you."

I thought my first words should've been more along the lines of "I'm sorry," but when I opened my mouth that was what tumbled out.

"I miss you so much. Nobody looks at me the way you do. Nobody makes me laugh like you. I had a girlfriend in college, you know. Dated a few random girls. Kissed them plenty, even had sex. None of them kissed me like you do. Not even my girlfriend could make me feel the way you do. I know you're in there, James. I know you're scared to come back. But he can't get to you now. Even if he eventually posts bail or something, he can't get to you. I'm sorry, I know I promised you that before, and I failed. I let him hurt you. But James...never again. Please give me a chance to prove it, that I can keep you safe. I can give you the life you wanted when you came home from Hollywood. I'm here and I'm not leaving again."

My one-sided conversations with him usually went something like that, and though I wondered if he might get sick of the same old thing, I never stopped. His parents had to return to work once they knew he was stable, but they visited every night. John and Sapphire were also frequent visitors, and even the girls from the yogurt shop dropped by a few times. The nurses encouraged all of us to talk to him, stating that it was that sort of stimulation he needed in order to wake up. I never saw any change, never saw an improvement, but I kept talking. Through the night I'd talk to him, taking a break from it when someone else was there to or when I couldn't stay awake. Sometimes I'd sit with him in silence, just grateful he was still alive and that I could hold his hand and kiss his lips. Other times I played "Class Act" for him, laughing over the silliness of his character and at times crying because watching him so full of life made me miss him desperately.

So that became the repeated theme. "I miss you." It was what my entire world had shrunken to. I missed James Diamond. It was the only truth in my life. I missed him and I had to bring him back.

I said everything I could think of to get through to him, and still nothing worked. In the third week after he was moved to a room I overheard a nurse delicately discussing the inevitable with his parents, and his mother immediately rejecting the idea of taking him off life support. His father was silent on the idea, but I'd watched his hope dying more each day and knew it would only be a matter of time before Cheryl was talked into it. Hospital bills were mounting and without any sign that things would ever get better, the logical thing to do would be to let go.

I could fight them on it. I had no legal sway, but I was a master of words. I'd talk them out of it. I had to. I'd promised not to fail James again, and I wouldn't.

It took two more weeks, but eventually they wore Cheryl down. No one asked my opinion. Who was I? The obsessed young man who couldn't even really claim James as a boyfriend? His parents had grown to love me but even they felt I needed to move on. When they came to me to discuss it, there wasn't really any discussion to be had—they were simply explaining to me why it was time to let go. I wanted to hear none of it. I argued, I begged, I sobbed, I physically held onto the bed until they threatened to have me escorted out by security. I told them I'd like to see them try.

In the end it was his parents who got me under control, crying themselves because they knew what I was feeling. They didn't want to let him go either, but they felt there was no other option. James was dead in all ways except physically and that was never going to change.

"You don't know that," I argued, but they did. It was in their eyes.

"He's breathing on his own, it's not even like he's on machines that you can pull the plug on. Isn't that illegal?"

It wasn't. How it wasn't, I never understood, but the doctor rattled off some legal jargon I couldn't follow; the bottom line was, his parents had the power because he couldn't make decisions himself.

I watched them say their goodbyes, wondering how parents could ever give up on their child. I realized it wasn't the first time, and that this was really not much different than them washing their hands of him when Scott shut them out. They loved him, they just didn't know how to fight for him.

That had always been my job.

I have a clear memory of planning to kidnap him. I sat in the chair next to the bed as they cried over him, and I feverishly worked out a half-assed plot to sneak him out as a dead body. It wouldn't have worked, of course, but desperation leads us to ignore the finer points of logic. When his parents left the room and the nurse gave me time to say goodbye, I stood over him with the plan running through my head and my hands itching to rip the IV and vital-monitoring equipment away from his body.

Call it temporary insanity. That's what any jury would say if forced to make a judgment on my actions. That's what it was. The thought of living without James, even in this state, literally drove me insane. There was no way I would do it—no way I _could_.

"James," I whispered, hardly aware of my tears dripping onto his face. I wished there was some way to look into his eyes. That was what I needed to see, his eyes full of hope and devotion, the eyes that had looked at me as he said, "I love you."

I realized in that moment that I'd never said it myself. All of the talks we'd had (well, I'd had, if we're honest), all of the hours I spent rambling to him and begging him to come back to me, all of the tears I'd cried at his bedside. Not once had I spoken those words aloud, words he probably never felt himself worthy of hearing. Sure, Scott had spoken them, but Scott was a liar. No one could treat someone the way Scott had and love him.

But I loved him, and suddenly it was imperative that he knew it. Out of hope, out of ideas, out of time, I finally told James what I should have months before.

"I love you. I'm sorry I never said it when you could hear it, I thought there'd be time. I never imagined..." I shook my head, the tears raining down and making it nearly impossible to speak. "It doesn't matter. All that does is that I love you, and I'd give anything to hear you tell me that again."

I kissed him softly, aware that it would be the last time I ever did, but not wanting to think about that right then.

"I love you, James."

My head fell to his chest, my body shook over him, and I closed my eyes to listen to his heartbeat while I still could. It was strong and steady, as it had been for weeks, and it meant nothing. It was as meaningless as the breaths coming from his body; they were deep and even and-

His heart skipped a beat. Literally. I had no idea what that meant, if it was good or bad, but when his breathing also changed, I lifted my head and stared down with wide eyes, frozen and waiting and holding my own breath. There was nothing more for a few seconds, and then there was.

His dry lips parted on a gasp, one word escaping gruffly before he settled into silence again.

"Logan."

"I'm here! James, I'm here, don't leave me, come back, nurse!" By that time I was yelling so that the nurse who had threatened me earlier came running. "He woke up! He said my name, he spoke, I-"

Her panic turned to barely-veiled annoyance mixed with pity. "Mr. Mitchell, I'm sorry, I know this is hard for you, but you can't make up-"

"I'm not! I swear, he...listen, just listen to his heart. It's...James, please. Please, I love you, I need you, come back to me, show them!"

The steady beating of his heart tripped into a more erratic pace for a few seconds, causing the nurse to gasp and me to yell, "I told you! Please, do something! Wake him up!"

Suddenly all business, she pushed me aside and approached the bed to examine him, listening to his heart and lifting his lids to shine a light into them. I moved around to the other side of the bed, not missing it when his fingers twitched and calling her attention to it. "I'm getting the doctor. Don't move!"

I didn't. No power on earth could have dragged me away from James in that moment. I held tight to his hand, leaning down to kiss him again and hoping that would do something.

It did. His hand weakly squeezed mine.

"I'm here. I'm here and I'm not leaving. You're safe, James. You're safe. Open your eyes for me."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he did. He tried to swallow and found it difficult, then struggled to focus those gorgeous hazel eyes on my face. "You're beautiful," he grated.

As far as first words go, they were magical. I opened my mouth to say something, maybe to tell him that I'd missed him, or even that I loved him. The words froze on my lips, though, at the sound of his next ones.

"Do I know you?"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N—Reminder that I don't own these characters and all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

# #

Permanent neurological damage. The doctor had warned them it was a possibility, but as James continued to improve physically, the danger of that had faded—at least in everyone's minds. And never in Logan's worst nightmares would he have considered amnesia. It just didn't make sense.

Except it did. It had happened, and Logan was spared an answer to James' first question by a doctor and nurse shoving him away from the bed and instructing him to leave the room. His feet automatically carried him to the waiting room, where he knew he'd find Richard and Cheryl, his mind temporarily on hold. When they spied him, they reached out for him and Cheryl pulled him in, consoling him and begging him to understand their decision.

Logan was numb. He was vaguely aware of them leading him to a chair, of Cheryl crying again, of Richard hugging her against his side in an attempt to chase away his own grief. Richard commented that there would be a funeral and they wanted Logan to attend, and Logan shook his head slowly.

"You don't want to come?"

"He's awake."

For a moment they each thought they'd misheard him, then that he was delusional.

"He's awake," Logan repeated. "He...he said my name. Then he slipped under again, and woke up, and..."

"He's awake?!" Cheryl jumped to her feet. "Richard! We have to-"

About to rush away, she halted when Logan reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Finally his brain kicked into gear. "He doesn't remember."

Richard frowned. "Doesn't remember what?"

"Anything, I assume. He doesn't remember me. Maybe it was only temporary, maybe..."

Logan glanced up when the doctor rounded a corner. He caught their attention and beckoned them, Logan standing to pull Cheryl along while Richard brought up the rear. They followed him to the nurse's station, where he took a deep breath to address them.

"Does he remember?" Logan asked first, that being what he needed to know most.

"I'm afraid not. If you recall, I mentioned when James was first admitted that this was a possibility. Amnesia is more common in head trauma than most people realize, but the good news is it's usually temporary."

Logan swallowed. "How long is temporary?"

"It's different in every case. It can be a few days, weeks, months..."

"Years," Logan finished.

"Are you saying my son forgot everything?" Cheryl clarified. "Even his own name? His own parents?"

"At the moment he doesn't know who he is, why he's here, or even where here is. He knows he's in a hospital. We explained to him that he was in a coma for a long period and that he's recovered for the most part from the injuries that brought him here. We'll keep him here for a few more days to make sure he's stable, and he'll need time to build his strength up because his muscles have atrophied a bit. That's an easy fix, though. The hard part is helping him through the amnesia, because he's going to be scared and lost. What will be most helpful to him is familiar surroundings, his home. The places he used to visit. Once we know he's physically okay, the best recovery for him is home."

 _Home._

The word echoed in Logan's mind. James had said he thought of Logan as home.

Richard and Cheryl had many more questions for the doctor, but Logan had only one. "Can I talk to him?"

"Yes, but please keep in mind he's going through hell right now. He can only handle so much, and painful memories might be too much. I'd suggest not mentioning anything that might upset him. Don't talk about the assault, don't mention the ex-boyfriend, don't pressure him to remember things."

Logan nodded. He wasn't going to think about the future now, wasn't going to fear the "what if" of James never regaining his memory. What James needed most at the moment was a friend, and Logan would be that.

Logan had promised to never leave James' side, and he intended to make good on that promise. James may not remember, but Logan would never forget.

* * *

James was sitting up in bed, looking weak and tired but restless. The nurse who'd doubted Logan earlier glanced at him in warning as he walked in; Logan held up a hand as if to say "I got this."

"Oh, hey. It's you. Are you one of the doctors?"

While his heart cracked at the question, Logan couldn't keep a smirk from his lips at the flirty tone because this was the James he'd fallen in love with. "I am not," he smiled. "I'm actually your best friend. We've known each other since junior high."

"Really?" James closed his eyes, visibly attempting to remember, then sighed in frustration. "It's true. I didn't want to believe it, but I really have forgotten everything. How in the hell did I forget you?"

Rather than answer, Logan reached for the tray an orderly was carrying in. He poured James a cup of ice water and passed it over to watch James drink greedily.

"Not so much at once," the nurse cautioned. "Your stomach isn't used to anything in it."

"I don't care, that tastes amazing. My throat was so dry."

Deftly removing the cup from James, Logan held it ransom on his lap as he took the chair next to the bed. "If you behave, you can have more of this in a few minutes."

"Behave? What do you think I'm gonna do, get up and run out of here? With all this crap hooked up to me? Hey, what's this needle for anyway?"

"It's your IV," the nurse answered. "Once we know you can keep down food, we'll remove it."

"Fine." James returned his attention to Logan and offered a blinding smile. "So hi."

"Hi there." Pleased to hear that James' voice wasn't as gravelly, he returned the smile. "How's it going?"

"Pretty sure it's been better. Do I end up in the hospital a lot?"

"No. This is your first visit in years, as far as I know."

"Was it a car accident?"

Logan hesitated.

"Come on, you said you were my friend. Don't lie to me."

"The truth is, this isn't the time to discuss it. When you're ready, I'll be happy to remind you of everything. For now, just...let me be grateful you're alive."

"Was there a danger I might not be?"

"Yes," Logan replied solemnly. "You came very close to death."

"I feel fine. Kind of weak and tired, but fine. Why is no one else here? Don't I have family?"

"You have parents that love you. They're talking to the doctor right now. Should I get them?"

"I don't know. I'm honestly kind of scared."

"Why?"

"Because I don't remember them. That's gotta hurt, you know? Do they know? That I don't remember?"

"Yes."

"Are they mad?"

"Mad?" Logan echoed. "Why would they be mad?"

"Because. Wouldn't you be if your kid didn't remember you?"

"Not at all, because my kid wouldn't be able to help it. You didn't choose to forget, did you?"

"I guess not. I mean, some part of my brain did."

"Not a part you control, James. Trust me, they're as happy as I am that you're alive."

"So it's good? We have a good relationship?"

"It's...complicated. Just know that they love you and they haven't spoken to you much over the past few years but not by their choice."

"Oh." James' lips curved down. "It was my choice?"

"I don't think that's accurate, either."

"Do I love them?"

"I think so. We never really talked about them. But I know they love you and they don't want to lose you again. They've been here every day."

James considered that with his lips pursed. "Have you?"

The nurse snorted softly, then cleared her throat. "Sorry."

"What's so funny?" James asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Logan answered. "Here, have some more water."

"I'm not gonna be distracted with water." Belying his words, James took the cup and swallowed. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Logan. My name's Logan."

"Logan." James tested the word on his tongue, then shrugged. "I would've guessed Greg. You look like a Greg to me."

"Sorry to disappoint," Logan chuckled. "Not changing it now."

"I'll get used to it, I suppose. When can I go home?"

James' parents appeared before Logan could answer. He silently communicated to James that he would be right outside, then stepped into the hallway and released a deep breath accompanied by shaking. Tears flowed over, brought on by a surge of emotion that was halfway between relief and heartbreak. He had James back, but he didn't.

 _He's alive. That's all that matters, Logan. He's alive. And you're going to make sure that doesn't change._

* * *

Though Richard and Cheryl fought him on it, Logan won the battle of where James would go home to. He reminded them that Scott might be released any day and they had to work, which would leave James alone for hours on end. When they argued that Logan, too, would have to work, he stated that he could take James to work with him, and if that wasn't good enough, he'd quit. After all, he'd only taken the job in the first place to be near James.

His own mother was accommodating, understanding the dangers and seeing that her son was so devoted he wouldn't be swayed. It was decided that James would sleep in Logan's room and he would take the couch, where he could be sure no one broke in. He hated the idea of sleeping so far away from James, still paranoid that it wasn't safe for James to be alone, but knew James still wasn't ready for the revelation that they'd been more than friends—no matter how much he flirted.

Surprisingly, James didn't question the decision. When Logan asked why he didn't think it strange, James replied that he obviously hadn't lived with his parents for years but had kept in touch with Logan. "I may not remember anything, but that tells me a lot. I trusted you more than I trusted them."

James was discharged from the hospital three days after waking up from his coma. He walked without aid to the front entrance, having regained a small amount of muscle during hourly walks around the hospital with Logan. He was tired by the time he fell into Logan's passenger seat, but both were proud that he'd accomplished so much.

Stopped at a red light, James caught Logan staring at him with a tiny smile on his face. "What?" James demanded.

"Nothing."

"No, what? What's that cute little smile for?"

The "cute little smile" became a huge grin. "It's just so good to see you in my passenger seat again. You have no idea how many times we sat in this car."

"It feels comfortable," James admitted. "Like...almost familiar. Safe. Is that weird?"

"No. It's not weird at all."

Hope surged in Logan. If James remembered enough that Logan's car was familiar, it would only be a matter of time before he remembered everything else.

Logan clung to that. It kept him sane.

* * *

Logan's mother welcomed James like a son, opening her arms to hug him and tell him he could stay with them as long as need be. It was a relief to Logan, who knew she had never spoken to him before, but of course James didn't know that. He sensed that James was slightly uncomfortable with the effusion, most likely because he felt guilty for not remembering her. It was also a reminder that James needed to be handled with delicacy—as much as he wanted to, Logan forced himself to refrain from holding James' hand as he gave him a tour of the house.

After practically knocking Logan over with a desperate greeting, Rusty turned his attention to the new guest. Logan introduced them, joking that Rusty knew all his deepest, darkest secrets, and James grinned before bending down to pet the soft fur. "I'll have you spilling in no time," he whispered loudly to Rusty, causing Logan to chuckle.

"Trust me, he doesn't know anything you don't. Or at least, that you didn't before."

"Really? You told me everything?"

"I did," Logan answered honestly. "We had some pretty deep talks just before the...incident."

"When are you gonna tell me about it? Nobody else seems to want to. As my best friend, it's your place to tell me the truth when no one else will."

"I will, James, I just...the doctor said not to push it. Why don't we see how you're doing after your appointment next week? If the doctor feels it's safe to broach the subject, I will."

"But didn't he also say that the more I know about my life, the better the chances are that I'll gain my memory back?"

"In time, yes. I'm not risking a breakdown or anything, though. I already lived without you for over a month; I'm not losing you again."

James' gaze narrowed as if he was seeing more behind the words, and maybe he was. Logan wouldn't be surprised if James suspected his true feelings by now. Rather than address it, he changed the subject. "Where will I be sleeping?"

"Oh, right upstairs. Follow me, I'll show you the rest of the house."

Having taken to James right away, Rusty stayed close to him as they traversed the upper landing, finishing the tour in Logan's bedroom.

"You're sleeping in here. Rusty usually sleeps with me, but something tells me he might have a new buddy he's attached to."

"Sorry," James smiled, reaching down to pat the dog's head gently. "Didn't mean to steal your best buddy."

"It's okay. I feel better with him protecting you anyway."

"You say things like that but you don't tell me what I'm being protected from. Is that part of not pushing it?"

"It is," Logan nodded. "And while we're on the subject, we should talk about your future. Or present, I guess. The doctor said to take you places you spent a lot of time, places that made you happy. So I'd like to take you to work with me when I go."

"To work with you?" Eyebrows drawing together, James sank to the bed and absently ran his hand through Rusty's fur. "Your work is my happy place?"

"You once told me that it is," Logan stated. He sat down on the other side of Rusty, clasping his hands between his knees. "You worked there, too."

"I did? So we worked together?"

"Yeah. It's a frozen yogurt shop."

"Seriously? You work at a frozen yogurt shop?"

"I do. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I don't know. You just seem so smart. Like someone who'd have a career that requires a degree."

"You said that once before," Logan grinned. "It's good to know you're consistent and that your personality didn't change. I do have a degree, actually."

"Yeah? Rocket science? Medicine?"

"Nope. I'm a writer."

"A writer? Like...you write books?"

"I do. Or at least, I try to. So far it's not going so well."

"How come? What's holding you back?"

"My imagination, I guess. I like to write fiction but I haven't had much luck with the novel I've been working on. It's been months and I still don't have the first chapter done."

"Maybe you should start with something that requires less imagination."

"Like non-fiction?"

James shrugged. "It's a start. What about like...magazines? You could do articles, right? Or hey, why start out big? Aren't there magazines that publish short stories? You could try that!"

Logan blinked in surprise, stumped for a moment. "Why didn't I ever think of that?"

"You didn't? I've never suggested it before?"

"No. We haven't really talked much about my career."

"What did we talk about then?"

"Mostly about...other stuff," Logan finished lamely.

"What kind of other stuff?"

"Just...your life. Our pasts. We didn't see much of each other for eight years, so we had a lot to catch up on."

"Hang on, how old are we? Because no way did you go to college for eight years."

"No, only four. You moved to California after junior high and came back right about the time I left for college."

"Well that sucks. Wait, does that mean we didn't get a lot of time together? When did you come back from college?"

"May," Logan answered carefully. "We've spent a lot of time together since then, though." It wasn't exactly a lie; they had spent much of the month before James' attack together.

"And it's...January now, I think the nurse told me?"

"Almost February."

"Did we visit each other at all in the time you were away? Or when I was?"

"No. We saw each other once when you got back, and I left the next day."

"Wow. We do have a lot of lost time to make up for, then."

Logan smiled and started to reach for James' hand, stopping himself just in time. "You have no idea."

"I was wondering something. Since there was nobody else at the hospital, I'm assuming I don't have a girlfriend?"

Shaking his head, Logan knew to tread carefully on this subject. "No."

"Do you?"

"No."

"Was I seeing someone, at least?"

"There were no girls in your life. I think one of your co-workers had a crush on you at one point, but she realized you weren't interested so she became your friend instead. She came to the hospital to see you a few times, too. Her name's Sapphire."

"Why wasn't I interested? Did I ever tell you?"

"She just wasn't your type."

Absorbing that, James nodded. "Did I ever say why that was? Or what my type is?"

"We never discussed that, no."

"Okay." James inhaled as if to center himself, then asked, "Why don't I have any clothes? Or a phone? You said I didn't see my parents for years, so where was I living?"

"With a friend. When you were taken to the hospital, you didn't have a phone on you, so I assume it's still at the apartment. Same with your keys."

"Can't this friend let me in to get my stuff?"

"He's out of town." That also wasn't a lie.

"Damn. So what am I-"

"Your mom said she'd take you out shopping for some clothes tomorrow if you want. You're welcome to wear some of my stuff, too."

"Thanks. The shirts should be okay, but I doubt your pants will fit me. No offense, but you're just a tad shorter than me," James winked.

"I have sweat pants you can wear in the meantime. You're actually wearing my clothes right now."

"No way! That explains why I don't like them. Uh, no offense!" James added hurriedly.

"I feel like I'm gonna hear that a lot over the next few weeks," Logan grinned, not minding the ribbing. "No offense taken. You and I are different in many ways. Speaking of which, I hope you like chicken noodle soup. The doctor said that since we're still reconditioning your body to food, we should stick to foods that are easier to digest over the next week. Mom thought it would be a good thing to start you with."

"Is she making it herself?" James wondered.

"Yeah. Mom makes everything herself. She'd never serve that store-bought crap."

"That sounds great, then. Anything's better than the hospital food I was eating. You can't even call that food. I'm so sick of apple sauce and yogurt."

"You just haven't had the right kind of yogurt yet. Wait until I take you to work."

"What am I supposed to do there all day, anyway? Sit and eat frozen yogurt?"

"I'm hoping you'll remember enough to actually do the job. But no pressure, there's no rush to get your memory back."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was you who couldn't remember anything."

Logan nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault."

It was, though, at least in Logan's mind. He couldn't shake that. "I just wish I could've stopped it from happening."

Surprising Logan, James leaned across the dog to lay his head on Logan's shoulder. "I may not remember anything, but I already know you well enough to say that if you could've stopped it, you would've. Am I wrong?"

"No," Logan replied quietly. Absently scratching Rusty's fur, his hand brushed against James', which was doing the same thing. He noted that James didn't jump or move his hand away and took it as a good sign. "I would've done anything to save you."

"Well, maybe in your own way you did. The nurse told me you never left my side, you know."

His face growing hot, Logan replied, "That's not true. I had to sleep and shower."

"And she said you made sure someone was always there to watch over me when you did. Or that you slept in my room. She said you even slept in the waiting room while I was in the ICU. Is that true?"

"I didn't want you to wake up alone and be afraid."

Choosing his words carefully, James continued, "She also said everyone had given up on me except you. That you refused to even consider letting me die."

"She shouldn't have told you that." Angry that the nurse would willingly tell a patient that his parents had decided he should die, Logan was tempted to call and give her a piece of his mind.

"She just wanted me to know that it was you who brought me back. That it was you who saved me. So...thanks."

Logan closed his eyes against the feelings rising to overwhelm him. "You would've done the same for me."

"I hope so. I hope I was a good friend to you."

"The best," Logan commented lightly. "You always tried to protect me in your own way."

"That's because you're amazing. I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

"Me, too." Struggling to contain his emotions, Logan said, "You've got to be exhausted."

"I am," James admitted grudgingly.

"Why don't you get some rest? Your parents wanted to come over for dinner tonight, too, if that's okay. They want to know where you're staying and that you're safe."

"That's fine. Where do you sleep?"

"Downstairs," was all Logan offered as he stood up, gently removing James' head from his shoulder as he did so.

"I didn't see another bedroom down there."

"Don't worry about it. Just lay down and close your eyes, Rusty will stay with you."

"Will _you_ stay with me?"

It was said in such a scared and tiny voice that Logan's heart cracked. "Let me go talk to Mom for a few minutes and then I'll come back, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"Okay." James kicked off his shoes, which his mother had bought for him the day after he woke up, and laid back against the pillows. "I'll stay awake until you come back."

"I wouldn't bet on that. You're about to pass out."

"Just hurry."

Ten minutes later Logan returned to find James snoring softly while Rusty did the same with his head on James' thigh. "Thanks for leaving me some room, guys," Logan joked sarcastically, but there was just enough for him to squeeze in on James' other side. The movement of the bed woke James up briefly, and he smiled before turning onto his side and scooting closer to Logan. Grateful that James didn't seem to mind his touch, Logan pulled James against him until James' head was resting against his chest. "Can you breathe okay?" he whispered.

James' response was to snuggle in even closer and let out a quiet noise of assent. Logan had waited months for this, to be able to hold James as he slept and know he was safe.

He said a silent prayer of thanks to God and closed his eyes, completely relaxed for the first time since the assault. Together, they slept like the dead.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N—Reminder that I don't own these characters and that all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

# #

Sometime in the night Logan was awakened by a wet nose nudging his hand, which was hanging off the sofa. Half asleep, he scratched Rusty's muzzle and was met with a velvet tongue on his palm. "You're supposed to be upstairs with James," he mumbled, then blinked awake in a hurry and sat up. What if James-

There was no need to worry, though. They always left a nightlight on in the hallway, and in the dim glow from that Logan could make out a long body scrunched up and sleeping on the love seat across from him.

Lowering himself to the carpet, Logan made the short trek around the coffee table on his knees until he was kneeling next to James. "Hey," he said quietly, not wanting to startle him. Hoping it wasn't too much, he used a hand to brush James' bangs off his forehead, then combed his fingers through the strands that had grown without resistance during his coma.

"Mmm?"

"What happened? Why aren't you in my bed?"

James licked his lips, coming awake slowly as Logan's hand dropped away. "Scared," he admitted. "Don't know why, but I was scared. Didn't want to be alone."

"I'm here," Logan whispered.

And just like that, it was back—the look of such trust and devotion that Logan had lived without for far too long. "I know. That's why I'm here, because it's where you are."

"Did you...remember anything?"

"No. Please don't send me back up there alone."

Logan's plan had been to be the first defense in case of a break-in, wanting James to be far away in such a situation. He couldn't resist the plea, though, and when he stood up it was to extend a hand to James. "Come on."

"If you're just gonna leave me up there again—"

"Trust me."

James apparently had no trouble doing that. He allowed Logan to help him up from the sofa, then tightened his grip so that Logan wouldn't let go, and together they climbed the stairs with Rusty on their heels. Once all three bodies were reclined on the bed, Logan opened his arms and James went willingly, content only when he was in Logan's embrace.

"I'm sorry," James murmured. "I know I'm being a baby."

"Shh." He pressed his lips to James' forehead. "Sleep."

"I can't help it. I feel safe with you. There's this fear in me, it's always just under the surface, and I don't know what I'm afraid of. I just know that you make it go away."

"That's enough for now."

"Thank you. For not being annoyed."

Logan smiled. "I will be if you don't close your eyes and get some sleep."

"Fine," James laughed. "Don't eat breakfast without me, either."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Now stop talking and close your eyes."

"Okay. Goodnight, Logan."

"Night, James."

James suddenly lifted his head. "Night, Rusty!"

The dog's response was a noisy yawn, making them both giggle. When James returned his face to Logan's neck, his lips lightly pressed to the hollow for a moment, and Logan held his breath until they backed off. It took all of his will to keep from claiming those lips as he had so many times before, especially since he felt that James would allow it.

It wasn't time yet, though. When it was, he wanted James to be the one to make that move. He only hoped he didn't have to wait another four years for it.

* * *

Though James begged Logan to come along for the shopping trip with his mother, Logan held fast to his decision to stay home. He knew that it was important for them to bond again, and he also knew that it was necessary for James to spend time away from him. There was a small part of him that worried about leaving James vulnerable, but after making some calls and reassuring himself that Scott would be incarcerated for another three years at the very least, he breathed more easily.

The time away from James also afforded him the opportunity for a long talk with his own mother, who had always given him good advice. As they faced each other over a lunch of sandwiches and chips, she could tell his thoughts were heavy.

"Is it going okay with James? Is he happy here?"

"He seems to be," Logan replied, settling back in the dining room chair. "He doesn't remember anything, but he knows instinctively I'm someone who will protect him."

"That's good, right?"

"It is, it's great. He trusts me implicitly. But..."

"What, honey? Are you afraid that once he remembers everything he might want something...else?"

"No, he was ready to jump from Scott to me when it happened. I think he'd made up his mind that he wanted to be with me."

"So what are you afraid of?"

"I guess...I'm afraid of replacing Scott in his life."

"I thought that was the point," his mother frowned. "Don't you want to be his boyfriend?"

"More than anything. What I don't want is for him to be dependent on me like he was Scott. I want him to be his own person, to realize his own worth. He's clinging to me right now, and while part of me loves it, I know it's not healthy."

"Logan, the poor boy has nothing. No memories, no home, no direction. It's normal for him to cling to someone during this time. You can't expect him to adjust immediately when he doesn't even have a life to go back to."

"So it's okay, then? That he's afraid to be without me?"

"Is Scott an immediate threat?"

"No. I checked into it all this morning, spoke to the DA's office. Luckily most of the information is public record, so they gave me the details of his arrest and sentencing. The cops on the scene testified against him. So did his main doctor and nurse, and his neighbors. If I'd known about it, I would've testified, too. I could've attested to the years of abuse."

"That you never witnessed."

Logan shrugged. "I guess I didn't, so maybe you're right. Maybe it wouldn't have done any good, being hearsay and all. But he was given the minimum sentence because James wasn't there to testify against him. Five years. He's up for parole in three, and I...well, Mom, I'm thinking maybe by that time we'll need to move."

"He wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything else, would he?"

"I honestly don't know. I'm not taking that chance, though. Once James knows everything, it'll be up to him to decide, but I'd rather not have him anywhere near Scott. If he remembers it all, I probably won't have to convince him; he's terrified of the asshole."

They were quiet as they each took a few more bites, both thinking of James and the fear he lived in perpetually.

"What are your plans in the meantime? How do you intend to help him get his memories back? Can you take him back to his apartment? I'm sure their landlord would-"

"I don't want him going back to that apartment."

"His life is there, Logan."

"Not anymore."

"Surely he has things that-"

"Okay, that's probably true. I'll talk to Cheryl about it tonight, get an address or a phone number for the place. I don't know what the landlord will have done with their belongings. She's getting him a phone while they're out today, so I'll make sure you get his number." Logan glanced at his own phone for the fiftieth time since James had left, hoping for something. It was silent.

"So then what's your plan?"

"Depends on how his next exam goes. I'm so afraid to push too hard, Mom. What if he remembers and it...I don't know. I read that amnesia can recur, if the memories are too traumatic to bear. I don't want him to forget again."

"You can't protect him forever."

"I can."

"Logan," she scolded. "You said you wanted him to depend on himself, to be his own person. You have to allow him to do that. Encourage his memories, don't stifle them."

"I am, I just...I'm so scared."

"You won't lose him. He completely forgot you but somehow knew immediately he could trust you. Don't you think he would again?"

"I hope so. I'm gonna take him down to the shop tomorrow, have him meet everyone. See if that helps. It was his favorite place."

"Because you were there, honey."

"Even when I was gone, he said it was his happy place. His escape from Scott. He has good memories there that don't include me. I think working there will help him, too. Give him some kind of structure. It'll be his decision in the end, he might decide to go back to the grocery store instead. But I hope he stays with the shop."

Logan's phone rang and he scrambled to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, you. Miss me yet?"

Relief flooding him, Logan hid it behind a laugh as he stood up to wander into the next room. "I don't remember you being this full of yourself before."

"You know you love me."

He did, so much that he couldn't even joke about it. "So you got a phone?"

"I got a phone! Save this number, give it to your mom, make sure to call it often when I'm not there. Which hopefully won't happen again for awhile."

"Are things not going well with your mom?"

"No, they're fine. She's fine. I would just rather be there."

Logan would rather that, too. "Did you guys get lunch?"

"We're on the way to do that now. And I promise I'll eat something light. When can I start eating real food, though?"

"I'd say you can now, just be careful. Do it in moderation. Eat a little bit, see how that feels, and eat a little more if you think you can handle it. Mom's making beef stew for dinner."

"Oh god, that sounds incredible. Am I missing anything good for lunch?"

"Just sandwiches. You tiring yourself out or are you holding up okay?"

"I'm good right now. That might be a different story after traipsing through a department store with my mom, but for now I'm okay."

"Alright. Don't overdo it. Don't be afraid to tell her if you need to rest."

"I won't. See you in a few hours?"

"I'll be here. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will. Hey, Logan..."

"Yeah?"

"Look, I just want to say that I know I'm a burden. I know I'm keeping you from living your life, and-"

"You're not. I promise."

"But I am. You haven't worked in forever, you haven't gone anywhere or seen anyone but me. And I'm sure I'm part of the reason your book is at a standstill."

"Trust me, I was having issues with that long before moving back here."

"Still. I know I'm a pain in the ass making you sleep with me and stuff, and...I just want you to know that I'm trying. I've been looking at the places we pass, places Mom told me I've been, and I'm trying really hard to remember. I don't want to inconvenience you."

"James, believe me when I tell you that having you in my bed—in my life, for that matter—is not an inconvenience. I'm grateful for every moment we spend together, and I don't take you for granted. I almost lost you."

"Yeah, but that'll fade with time. I just want you to know that, okay? That I'm trying and I won't be a pain in the ass forever."

"Please, James, I've known you long enough to know that's a lie," Logan teased. It got the desired result, James laughing before he replied.

"Yeah, yeah. You love me."

"I do. Just worry about today, okay? Not about tomorrow or the next day. I know it's difficult for you to be away from me this long."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Hey. It's not easy for me either, okay? Get your clothes and then get your ass back here so we can both breathe easier."

"Oh, so it's my ass you're concerned with? Why am I just discovering this now?"

Momentarily speechless, Logan couldn't form an answer.

"Too much?" James asked hesitantly.

"Just get home."

"As soon as I can. Bye."

"Goodbye."

* * *

# #

Logan didn't even attempt to sleep downstairs that night. After dinner James took great pleasure in showing off his new clothes, insisting on modeling each outfit for Logan, who humored him. In truth it wasn't a hardship to watch James parade around the bedroom, no matter how much Logan teased him about it. More and more James was reminding him of the boy he'd been in junior high and the young man who'd greeted him on his first night back in town. Even though there was still a hint of fear barely visible under the surface, James Diamond was growing into his natural personality and becoming more comfortable in his skin. Logan couldn't have been more excited to have a ringside seat for the transformation. With each passing hour, he fell more in love.

They eventually settled on the bed together and talked late into the night. James shared his fears, which were many and mostly stemmed from the lack of memory and the prospect of meeting people who were strangers to him but knew him, while Logan held him and reassured him repeatedly that he was worthy of not only knowing, but loving. Darkness hid his fears from sight, neither bothering to get up and flip a switch. Rusty, who was sleeping across James' legs, wouldn't have appreciated it anyway.

There was a break in the conversation, Logan thinking James probably needed sleep, when he suddenly said Logan's name in a tone that belied his fear.

"What?" Logan asked softly, hugging James closer to him.

"I don't...there's something..."

"Did you remember something?"

"No. But I'm going crazy and there's something I have to say or..."

"You can say anything to me."

"Anything?" It was the scared voice again, as if terrified he was going to ruin everything.

"Anything," Logan confirmed.

"I don't know how."

"Don't be afraid to say the wrong thing. Just...let it out. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Swear."

It took about ten agonizingly long seconds for James to find the courage, but he braced himself and lifted his face from Logan's shoulder. There was just enough moonlight peeking in for Logan to see his expression, the determination in his gaze, and his breath caught just as James' mouth closed over his. Out of all of the kisses they'd shared, this one that was so hesitant and shy was the most powerful, because for the first time James belonged to him and he to James. His hand came up to brace James' cheek, holding it in place, and once James knew he wasn't going to be pushed away he shivered, body on fire with need.

"Tell me the truth," James whispered. "Did we do this before? Were we..."

"Yes," Logan answered breathlessly, no longer able to hold it in and pressing his lips to James' again.

"Did I love you?"

"Yes."

James kissed him a third time, not caring when Rusty voiced a softly growled complaint and moved off him. "Did you love me?"

"More than anything in this world."

Another shiver ripped through James, this one violent and setting off a mirror of movement in Logan. "You should've told me," James scolded while moving to straddle Logan's lap.

"Couldn't. Wanted...wanted you to love me on your own." James' mouth on his neck made speaking difficult.

"You're an idiot. I knew you were special the moment I first opened my eyes in that hospital room."

Logan's shirt was hastily lifted over his head. "Fuck," he breathed, James more aggressive than he ever had been and the new side of him not unwelcome.

"Have we? We did that, right?"

"N-no. Everything else, but not...Jesus, James." His zipper was dragged down carefully but quickly, leaving Logan unable to breathe properly.

"Want to? I know how, so I must have learned it somewhere." That caused Logan to freeze up, a little too close to things he didn't want revealed just yet, and James shook his head. "I don't want to know. Not right now. Right now I just want you. I want this. I need you."

Logan needed him, too. He offered no resistance, finally learning what it was truly like to be loved by a James Diamond who held nothing back.

"I love you," Logan murmured as they moved in the dark.

"I don't know a lot, but I know this. I love you, too."

They eventually fell asleep in each others' arms, still kissing softly because neither wanted to stop.

* * *

John greeted James with a huge bear hug, Logan watching and ready to step in if it bothered James. He bore it with grace, though it was obvious to Logan that he wasn't very comfortable being touched.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything. I hope Logan explained that."

"He did," John nodded. "I'm not worried about it, you'll remember it all in time. But this place? It doesn't trigger any memories at all?"

"Not so far, but I just walked in." James reached out for Logan's hand, gripping it tight so that his fear was communicated.

"The doctor said it's best not to pressure him," Logan reminded John. "But if it's okay, I wanted to take him around the shop, let him get reacquainted with it."

"Of course. It's so good to see you up and moving, James."

James managed a weak smile. "It's good to be up and moving."

"Is anyone else here?" Logan wondered.

"Not yet. Rebecca's due in soon."

"James, why don't you go walk around the place?" James wasn't too sure about that idea, but Logan squeezed his hand before letting it go. "I'm not going anywhere. Check out the backroom, the counter area. This place was your home away from home."

Still he hesitated, but when Logan nodded at him encouragingly, he approached the counter.

"Does everyone know the story?" Logan asked quietly once James had moved away.

"Nobody else knows it was Scott. They only know he got beat up bad. I think they assumed he was mugged or something. But when I told Anna and Rebecca that he would be stopping in today, they both got excited. They really miss him around here."

"Don't we all?" Logan smiled, keeping half his attention on James and watching for signs of recognition.

"Think he'll come back, or will he stay at the new place?"

"I don't know. He might not even want to work for awhile, and that would be fine. It's his decision."

"What about you? You ever coming back here?"

"If James does, I will. I'm still not comfortable leaving him alone for too long."

"Speaking of which...I couldn't help but notice the uh...hands?"

Logan blushed, not knowing how to explain it.

"Logan, if you're gay, it's okay. I just didn't know."

"You didn't know he was, either."

"I still don't understand what set-"

"What the hell?" James called out suddenly. "How long has the mango been out of order?"

Both Logan and John glanced over in time to see James lifting the top off the machine to peek inside. "It's clogged. Are you guys not cleaning it regularly? Who the hell's running this place?"

A huge grin split Logan's face. "You can, if you want. John would be more than happy to have you back."

"Just get me a spoon and a big bowl so I can get this shit out of here and look at the feed tube. Unbelievable."

Within an hour, James had all the machines cleaned and running like clockwork. The moment Rebecca arrived he put her to work reorganizing the supplies in the back room. Logan joined John manning the front counter, and other than the fact that James was working with complete strangers, it felt like old times. He might have no memory of the people and places in his life, but his knowledge of frozen yogurt hadn't suffered at all in the attack.

During a quiet moment when James and Logan were eating lunch that John had ordered for everyone, Logan felt him out. "So...you want to come back for good?"

"Not really, but I can't leave this place in anyone else's hands, obviously. How long did you say I was gone from here?"

"Uhh...including your time in the hospital, about three months?"

"And you were still working here? How did you let it get like this?"

Indignant, Logan reminded him, "You have to remember that I've been gone over a month, too."

"Well. This place falls apart without us. Or at least me. So I don't see that I have a choice. I mean, does nobody care about this place?"

Logan smiled and leaned in to kiss James on the cheek. "You do. I told you, this is your happy place."

"My happy place? Not looking like this, it isn't. Did you see the windows? There's dirt built up along the tops!"

"You were always the only one who could reach the tops," Logan smirked.

"So grab a ladder. It's laziness, I'm telling you. You gonna eat that egg roll?"

"All yours, handsome. And if you want, there's always frozen yogurt for dessert."

"What was my favorite flavor?"

"You don't know?"

"Nope. I might just have to try them all to figure it out," James winked.

"Go for it," Logan laughed. "Just remember not to-"

"My stomach's fine. Want to go out to your car for a quickie before we get back to work?"

"Absolutely not. Our quickies in the car are a thing of the past. We wait until we get home to have fun now."

"Oh. So we did that a lot? Made out in the car?"

"Every chance we got."

"Why the car? What's different now that we wait until we get home? Uh uh, don't close up. I know you're trying to be careful with me, but at least tell me that much. Were we just too horny to wait until we could go somewhere else?"

"There was nowhere else," Logan settled on. "If there was, we would've waited."

"Doubt it. Something tells me I could never wait to be alone with you."

"I think that was mutual."

"Shit, do you hear that bell going crazy? School must be out. We gotta get back to work."

Logan dragged James back down when he moved to stand. "Not just yet." He kissed James as long as he dared in a semi-public place. "Okay, now we can go back."

"But you won't go for a quickie in the car. Tease."

"Later, gorgeous. Go show everyone how this place should be run."

* * *

A week after James was released from the hospital, he returned for a series of exams. Together he and Logan waited hours for the results and were relieved when he was pronounced fully recovered, except of course for the small matter of his missing memories. When Logan related that James was much more his old self and no longer haunted by constant fear, the doctor suggested it might be time to slowly introduce him to the more traumatic incidents in his past. Logan was hesitant, James impatient, and Logan's mother the one to remind them that it was James' life and his decision.

Logan's issue was that he didn't quite know how to open that can of worms. He was determined not to drop any major bombs that might undo the progress James had made, but also refused to allow anyone else to do it for him.

"I just don't know how to come out and say it all," Logan lamented to Sapphire the following day, sitting across from her at a table in the shop. She'd come to visit James and initially scared him with her enthusiasm, but Logan promised she was one of the good guys and convinced him to agree to lunch with her. They were currently waiting for him to finish up a large order that was called in without warning.

"He needs to know, Logan. I mean, true, that asshole is locked up for a few more years, but he'll get out eventually. The longer James has to get used to the idea and figure out how to deal with it, the better."

"I know. But it's my job to protect him, nobody else is going to-"

"It's also your job to tell him the truth. Wouldn't you rather he hear it from you? I mean, just what do you think is going to happen? Do you think he's going to have a breakdown or something?"

"He might. The doctor said it could bring on another attack of amnesia and-"

"He already forgot everything, how much worse can it get?"

"I don't want to deal with him forgetting me again, okay?"

"Look, he did once and fell in love with you. It doesn't matter how many times he loses his memory, he's going to love you."

"You sound like my mom," Logan complained with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, your mom's smart, then. If you don't tell him, someone else might, and then you'll hate yourself for not telling him sooner. He might even be mad at you for keeping something so huge from him."

"I hate it when you make sense," Logan groaned.

Not one to back off, Sapphire pressed, "Did the doctor say how likely that is? That he'd lose his memory again?"

"He said it's a negligible chance. But either way, he could have a breakdown and end up drinking or doing drugs to cope. He doesn't need to deal with that."

"He won't. He has you this time. He doesn't need anything else. You have to do this, Logan. The sooner, the better."

"And watch him turn into a terrified half-version of himself? He's finally happy and unafraid, I won't take that from him."

"If you don't, someone else will. That's all I'm saying."

"Sapphire-"

"Hey!" James suddenly yelled across to them. "You two lazy butts! This would go faster if I had a little help over here, you know!"

Logan grinned at Sapphire. "I think he's actually jealous. This is new."

"Or hungry. Why don't you go help him?"

"Be right there!" Logan called out. "Can we do the Italian place for lunch? Buy him pizza?"

"Sounds great. But I'm serious about what I said. You have to tell him."

"How, though? How do you say to someone, 'Babe, your life sucked and you were miserable and almost died because you were too afraid to leave an abusive boyfriend?'"

"I don't know. Maybe it would help to write it down. Put it in a letter."

As Logan rose to help James fill quarts of frozen yogurt, he played her words in his head.

" _Maybe it would help to write it down."_

Logan's strength had always been his writing. Sapphire might be onto something.

Maybe he _could_ write it all down. James had suggested he start with something non-fiction, something he wouldn't have to use his imagination for.

What better story to tell than the story of them?


	9. Chapter 9

A/N-This is a shorter chapter, but I figured it was better to go too short than too long. One more after this. Thanks again to those still reading!

Reminder that I don't own these characters and all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

* * *

In Logan's spare time, he wrote. When James was working, he sat in the shop and wrote. After James fell asleep at night, he wrote. When James was caught up in a movie, Logan sat next to him on the sofa and wrote. He never allowed James to read what he was working on, stating that it was his rule to never show anyone his stories until they were completely finished. Though he was curious, James was encouraging and supportive, repeatedly telling Logan how proud he was that the writer's block was gone.

James' memory showed no sign of returning over the next month. Logan worried that it might never, that even after reading the story his brain would still block everything out. He consoled himself with the realization that it didn't matter; what James couldn't remember, Logan could fill in with words. He could only attest to memories he was part of, but he thought that might be enough to satisfy James' questions about his past.

He hoped, anyway.

They were stuck together like peanut butter and jelly, for better or for worse, through thick and thin. It was time James knew that firsthand—or at least secondhand, which was the best Logan could do on his own. James would have to supply his own memories to heal completely. For now, this was good enough.

* * *

I debated for an entire day about where to give James the notebook. The shop was his safety net, but I didn't want him to read something so jarring in public. I considered taking him to his parents' house so that he'd have a place to stay if he decided to leave me. I finally realized that I'd have to face his anger if that was the result, and it would be best to do it at home. Sapphire thought I was crazy to think he'd be mad at me after reading it all. I hoped she was right.

I waited for a day that my mother had both work and and her weekly bingo night at the church and called ahead the night before to let John know James wouldn't be in the next day. We had both officially returned to the shop as employees and I felt bad bailing on John, but when I explained my reason he told me not to worry about it; he'd get it covered.

James knew something was up when he came downstairs at eight. "You didn't wake me up! I'm gonna be late for work, you know how long it takes me to do my hair!"

Standing at the stove flipping pancakes, I glanced back long enough to say, "You're not going to work today."

"No? Are you really making me breakfast?" An excited gasp followed. "Are we going on a spontaneous date where you spend the day spoiling me rotten?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I attempted a smile but it felt forced; I was terrified.

"I wouldn't turn it down," James hummed, hugging me from behind and nuzzling my neck. "Isn't this Mom's bingo night? We could just stay home all day and fuck."

"You're half right." I shoved him back so that I could pull plates down from the cupboard.

"Only half? So we're gonna go somewhere else and fuck all day?"

He reached for a slice of bacon and I smacked his hand away. "Be careful, that's hot. And you're always so classy. Can't we at least call it making love?"

"Well, considering that every time we do it I can't stop thinking about how much I love you, I guess that _would_ be more accurate."

My heart flipped over in my chest, then squeezed in trepidation. "Sit. I'll bring breakfast out in a minute."

"Whoa, you even made fried potatoes? Is this my lucky day or what?"

"Every day with me is your lucky day," I joked.

"Can't argue that."

"Go," I commanded, passing him a jug of orange juice and shoving him toward the dining room. "And no feeding Rusty bacon, it's horrible for his arteries."

"It's horrible for my arteries, too, but you still spoil me with it." James stepped out of the kitchen but then peeked his head back in. "I do love you, by the way. Not just when we're fucking, but every second."

"I know," I smiled, this time not needing to force it. "I love you, too."

He blew me a kiss and disappeared. I closed my eyes, grabbing on to the counter to fight off the nausea that threatened whenever I thought of him forgetting me or even leaving me. I reminded myself of what both my mother and Sapphire had told me, that he'd forgotten me once and loved me anyway.

I prayed they were right, and that would always be the case.

* * *

Breakfast was fun, as all meals were with James. He joked plenty, teased me mercilessly, flirted up a storm, and managed to sneak half a slice of bacon to Rusty before I caught him and threatened to never cook breakfast for him again. Still, I was a wreck. By the time his plate was clean and I stood to clear away the dishes, dread filled me. What was worse, James knew me well enough to sense it.

"Hang on." He set down his empty glass and reached out to stay my hand as it reached for his plate. "Forget the dishes. Talk to me. Something's happened, and you're afraid to tell me. What is it, babe?"

It had taken me awhile to get used to him calling me that, the same nickname he'd used for Scott. Originally it had made me feel sick, but the more he said it the better I liked it because it was for me. Now it made me sick again. "Um. Well, you were right about us staying home all day."

"Okay. But you don't want to have sex, so that means-"

"I never said I don't want to."

"If you wanted to, it would happen. You're a nervous wreck and that means one of two things. Either something really bad happened and whatever hurt me before is a threat again, or you're breaking up with me. I can't handle that, so please tell me I'm in danger."

"You'd rather be in danger than have me leave you?" I asked curiously, for a moment distracted.

"Of course. If I'm in danger, I have you to protect me. If you leave me, I don't. Nothing could be worse than that, Logan. Nothing."

I swallowed hard, wondering how this man could love me so much. "Let me assure you that you will never have to face life alone. I will always protect you, as long as I'm physically able and you...want me to."

"You're worried there'll come a time I don't want that?" His gaze focused more directly on my face.

"Yes. When you know the truth, you might-"

"Was it you? Were you the one who put me in the hospital?"

"What?! No! Absolutely not, I was the one who tried to save you from that! I failed, and I'll never forgive myself for it but I tried, you have to know that I would never-"

"I do," James nodded. "So as long as that isn't the case, you have nothing to worry about. Is this the day where you tell me everything?"

"In a manner of speaking," I replied, then bit the bullet. "Come to the living room with me."

Without looking back to make sure he was following, I walked away. It was longer than I anticipated before he joined me, and by that time I had the notebook on my lap and was fingering it nervously. The last bit I'd written had been jotted down the night before just after he went to sleep.

"Wait, I finally get to read your story? It's finished?"

I wished I could take a picture of his face in that moment, the sparkling eyes and excited smile. Sadly, I'd left my phone upstairs so we wouldn't be disturbed. "I wouldn't exactly say it's finished. The end of it is up to you. But I've written all I can on my own, and it's time for you to take over." I passed it over with shaking hands. "This is the story of us. It starts the day you first kissed me, and ends last night. Today is a new chapter, and I..." His face went from shock to concern as my voice faltered. "It's time you knew everything. It was the only way I could bring myself to say it all. I'm sorry, I'm a coward."

Realizing with that faultless instinct of his why I was near tears, James took my hand in his. "I'm not the only one afraid of losing us, am I?"

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"I love you," James stated without a trace of flirtation. "Nothing in this book is going to change that."

"I hope you're right." I pulled him close for a gentle kiss, not unlike the first one we'd shared after he moved in. "I love you, too, and the parts of your life I hid from you I did because of that. Because you've suffered enough."

He lifted a hand to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall from my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, using my oft-repeated line.

"I'll be around the house, if you need anything. Just call."

Other than a few trips to the bathroom, which James took the notebook along for, he didn't leave the sofa. I busied myself cleaning the kitchen and anything else I could find, doing my best to keep from going insane as I waited. Around noon I delivered a couple of sandwiches and his favorite chips; he barely looked up but did manage a distracted "thank you." I saw that he was about halfway through and resigned myself to another three hours of mindless chores.

I was cleaning the upstairs bathroom, running a mop over the tiles, when Rusty trotted in. About to scold him, my mouth dried up as James appeared in the doorway. His face was solemn and pale. I had so many questions, but I waited for him to speak.

"Do you still have the DVD's from my old show? 'Class Act'?"

"Uhhhh." My brows furrowed together while I considered the question. "I think so. I think they're in the box of stuff I brought back from California."

"Can we watch them?"

The use of the word "we" didn't escape me. I began to breathe. "Of course. You really are a fantastic actor, James."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

No joy, no smirk, not even a joking tone.

"I'll meet you downstairs after I find them."

He nodded, then turned away.

"James?"

He halted, but didn't turn back.

"Did it...do you remember anything?"

"No. I feel...something. A niggling. But not anything concrete."

"Okay."

Not knowing what else to say, I let him go without a word and abandoned the mop to search through a box I hadn't opened in months.

James was waiting on the sofa I'd left him on hours before. He'd poured us each a glass of iced tea and brought in a plate of cookies that my mother had baked. "Find them?"

"Yeah. Is there any episode in particular you want to see, or-"

"There were three seasons, you said?"

"Right."

"Let's start from the beginning, then. I'm having a really hard time believing that I have any talent at all."

"You do," I assured him. After popping the first disc into the player, I picked up the remote and pressed play but then hesitated, wondering if he'd rather I sit on the love seat. He answered the question by moving aside and patting the cushion next to him, then reaching forward for the plate of cookies before settling back into the pillows. I joined him and when he slid an arm around me to hug me against his side, I buried my face in his chest and proceeded to fall apart.

"Did you really think I'd leave you after reading something like that?" he murmured. When I didn't answer or act like I'd even heard him, he gently shushed me. "I'm on the screen. Nobody's allowed to cry when I'm on T.V. Damn, my hair was long! Look at me, I'm a baby!"

That broke through my emotional outburst. I looked at the screen through a blur of tears, which James promptly wiped away before offering me the plate of cookies. "Have one of these, it makes everything better."

"I love you. I was so afraid, so scared that you'd be mad I didn't tell you about Scott-"

"We're not talking about him right now," James interrupted in a tone that brooked no argument. "I can't handle that just yet. Watch with me, babe. Tell me how beautiful I was."

"You still are, idiot," I said with affection. "The whole world loved you. Even the nurses in the hospital got excited when they realized who you were. Of course they hid it well once you woke up, and they were professional when they needed to be, but I overheard them talking once about how they'd had crushes on you as teens."

"Even the old ones?"

"No, James. The younger ones."

"That makes more sense. You should've put that in your little story. I like hearing that someone thinks I'm special."

"You're special," I whispered, almost choking when a cookie was shoved in my mouth.

"Shh, I'm trying to watch this. Be quiet or leave." His arm tightened around me, though, and I knew he wouldn't send me away.

"Never."

We made it through half of the first season with no incidents other than James' panic when the cookies were gone. We took a quick break to use the restroom and restock on goodies, this time a box of cheese crackers he ate most of on his own. I considered cautioning him against ruining his appetite, but decided to keep my mouth shut; he'd gone years living with someone who controlled what he ate, and I wasn't going to continue that.

The thirteenth episode was one filled with teenage drama. His character had begun a forbidden relationship with the principal's daughter. At one point they were almost caught, but at the last minute he escaped, leaving with a rushed "I have to go."

It was like being hurled through time to the past. I hadn't heard that line in months and was glad to be rid of it. The reminder jolted me so much that it took me a few seconds to realize James had pushed away from me and was sitting up straight. A moment later he was standing, pressing his hands to his head.

"Oh shit," I hissed. "James?"

"Turn it off. Shut it off!"

I fumbled with the remote but managed to get the television turned off before standing to face him. "Hey. Talk to me."

"Logan," he moaned. I'd never heard him sound so miserable. "My head...pain...make it..."

"Don't move." I rushed up the stairs for my phone and almost killed myself running back down, dialing 9-1-1 as I joined him. He'd sunk onto the sofa again, hands still pressed to his skull.

"Help. My boyfriend's...James, talk to me, what's going on?"

"Hurts. Can't...Logan!"

"I'm here. Please, just send an ambulance. It's his head, something's wrong, he needs a doctor."

His hand was a talon gripping mine and I didn't let go even though I could no longer feel my fingers. Tears were running down his face through closed eyelids. I stayed on the line with the operator, who asked me questions I didn't know how to answer. All I knew was that James was in pain and I couldn't help. Once again, I was helpless.

By the time the paramedics arrived, he'd passed out. If I had to guess, I'd say it was from pain that was too intense for his brain to bear. He later told me he felt like someone had buried an axe in his skull. At the time I didn't know what was wrong, though.

Strangely enough, my biggest fear wasn't that he'd forget me. I knew by then I could live through that. What I couldn't live through was him dying. It had almost undone me the first time.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N-Last chapter! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this, and to those who reviewed-your feedback helped a lot and made me very happy. :) Thinking about posting another story I have written, and I've almost convinced myself but it's different from my others so I'm hesitant. We shall see. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Reminder that I don't own these characters and all credit goes to the creators of Big Time Rush.

* * *

My mother and his parents met me at the hospital, where I collapsed into my mother's arms and sobbed that they wouldn't let me back to see him. I was stuck on that, hating the world for keeping me away from him when he needed me most. My mother consoled me the best she could until I was rational enough to relate what had happened earlier. As I told them, I realized that it was my fault. Again, it was all my fault. I'd brought this on by forcing him to face memories he wasn't ready to. After that I was incoherent, scaring my mother so much she seriously considered having me put under sedation.

Before that could happen the doctor came out. I was relieved to see it was the same one that had been dealing with James from the beginning and knew his history.

"He's okay," was the first thing he said, not to James' parents but to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders to steady me and said it again. "He's okay, Logan. He's sleeping right now, the painkiller knocked him out, but he's okay. He's going to live."

I sank into a chair, only vaguely aware that I'd become the focus of the entire waiting room by then. My mother passed me a tissue and I cried into it until I was able to function, then asked the doctor to repeat what he'd just related to Cheryl and Richard.

"We ran two types of scans on him. The nerves in his brain were firing at a rate that's fatal if it goes on too long, but it's already scaling back. He lost consciousness because the body can't handle so much trauma at once. My fear was that he'd lose his memory again and that hasn't happened. He regained consciousness and was having trouble thinking clearly, but he knew who he was and where he was and why he's here. He also asked for you at least ten times and I'm sorry, I can't allow you back there yet. We need to make sure he's stabilized. What I can tell you for sure right now is that he remembers. He regained his memories, I got that much out of him before the painkiller kicked in. I'm positive that's what caused all of this, that his brain is overloaded and trying to assimilate all of the memories."

"But he'll be okay?" Cheryl asked. "This is temporary?"

"We think so. You're welcome to wait out here, but the medicine will keep him under for at least a few hours. By that time we should have this under control, or at least halfway there."

"Can I wait with him? Please?"

The doctor was about to argue; I saw it in his eyes.

"You know I'll just sneak in there anyway."

Surprisingly, it was my mother who came to my rescue. "If you don't let him back there, you'll end up with another patient to sedate. Please, doctor. He won't relax until he sees James for himself."

I didn't even care that they were discussing me like an ill-behaved child. Whatever it took to get me to James, that's what I'd do. A tantrum wasn't beneath me at that point.

"Come on back," the doctor sighed. My mother offered to stay with Cheryl and Richard and I didn't look back.

I wasn't going to leave him.

* * *

He looked much better this time in comparison to the last time I'd seen him in the ICU. There was no IV, no tubes, no oxygen being pumped into him. He was breathing normally, appearing to be completely at peace, and once I was satisfied that he wasn't in any pain I was able to breathe normally, too.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump.

"Sorry," the nurse apologized. It was the one who'd threatened to have me thrown out once before. "I just wanted to make sure you know that he's gonna be okay. It's different this time."

"I know," I sighed. "I just don't want him to suffer anymore. He's suffered so much in his life. He deserves to be happy."

"He's young. He's got plenty of time to make up for it. You two finally dating or what?"

"Yeah." I gave her a wan smile and covered my hand with his. "He won't have to go through life alone."

"He's lucky. We should all have someone as devoted as you."

"It's mutual." I leaned down to kiss his lips, which were warm and a healthy pink. "I'm surprised he hasn't proposed to me yet."

"I give it a week."

I laughed, something I'd never expected to do in a hospital where James lay unconscious before me. "We still have a lot to work through. He remembered everything."

"I heard. I also heard him screaming for you at the top of his lungs. Repeatedly. You two were made for each other."

Rather than take offense, I smiled. "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

She left us alone then, most likely with a roll of her eyes. I lowered the bar of the hospital bed and hopped up to stretch out next to James. Sure, they'd kick me off soon enough, but for the moment I needed to be close to him and reassure myself that he was here and not going anywhere. As incredible as it sounds, I actually fell asleep. My head was on his chest and my arm around his waist.

I was home.

* * *

I woke when he stirred and groaned, immediately alert.

"Logan," he mumbled.

"Here. Right here. What do you need?"

"Hurts."

"Let me get the nurse, they can give you something for the pain."

"No," he protested weakly. "Not yet. It'll make me sleep."

"You need rest, your brain is-"

"Not yet," James repeated, slowly opening his eyes. "It's better. Still hurts, but better."

"Okay."

I'd risen to one elbow over him. He pulled me back down and cuddled me in. "Sorry I scared you."

"Don't be sorry, it's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"I needed to know."

"But look what it-"

"Logan," he interrupted, tone more firm than I would've thought him capable of in that moment. "I needed to know."

I said nothing.

"You really thought I'd forget you?"

"It happened once."

Unable to argue that, he changed the subject. "Who's here?"

"Mom. Your mom and dad."

"Do they know I'm okay?"

"Yeah. They know you will be."

Another a minute of silence, he stated, "I remember now."

"I heard. All of it?"

"All of it. Please don't think what happened to me is your fault."

"How can it not be?"

"Because he didn't try to kill me just because he saw us together."

I blinked a few times, letting that sink in. "No?"

"No. He hurt me because of that. Wanted me to suffer."

Nausea made my stomach lurch.

"But he didn't want me dead," James continued. "Not until I told him I was leaving him."

I sat up slowly to stare down at James; he let me go. "You were gonna leave him?"

"We talked about it that night, remember? I was gonna wait, figure out how to say it, make sure I did it when you were with me and maybe have John there, too. I could've just left a note and gotten everything out while he was at work, but I'm not a coward. At least not in that sense."

"So what happened?"

"He started...you know. Beating up on me. Worse than ever. And that's when I realized that all along, he's been more afraid than me. Of being alone and having no one to control. Me leaving would hurt him more than it would me. I wasn't afraid after that, I knew he was just scared. So I told him. I was laying on the carpet in so much pain I didn't think I could move, but I managed to get my phone out. He saw me and asked what I thought I was doing. I was calling you. I told him that. I told him I was done, that you'd shown me what love is supposed to feel like, and it was over between us. He..."

I waited, knowing how difficult it must be to remember, let alone talk about.

"He grabbed my phone and threw it against the wall. Told me you'd never have me. Said he'd kill me before he let anyone else touch me. I've never seen him like that, he was in a rage and his eyes..."

When James' eyes closed against the horror as if that would keep him from seeing it in his mind, I laid down again and kissed his jaw.

"I was too weak to run away. I tried, I knew he was gonna do it and I tried to get up but I couldn't, he was too fast. I remember...I remember saying your name, calling out to you even though I knew you couldn't hear me. That only pissed him off more. He said..."

"You don't have to-"

"He said he was gonna kill me, then go after you. He was...his hands. My throat. I couldn't breathe, and I remember knowing I was gonna die, that I was glad I'd told you I love you, and praying he wouldn't hurt you. I don't...after that...there's nothing."

I held him as he cried, the fear and sorrow finally coming to the surface after months of being locked inside his mind. "Who saved me?" he asked. "If it wasn't you..."

"Your neighbors. A lawyer told me that they both testified on your behalf, said they heard the uh...that he wasn't quiet as he punished you. They called the police, and the police broke in as he was strangling you. They caught him in the act, so...it wasn't hard to figure out what had been happening."

"My neighbors," James said in wonder. "Mrs. Lawrence. She's always so nice to me. I love that woman."

"She and her husband saved your life, James."

"We gotta go see them. Thank them. Do you think my things are still there, in the apartment?"

"I don't know. When you're feeling up to it, we can go over if you want. Talk to the landlord and see. I doubt it after so many months, but we can find out what happened to everything."

"Okay. Thanks. I'm tired. Do you think they can-"

"Let me take care of it. I'll get the nurse."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too," I smiled, and we kissed before I slid off the bed.

* * *

Once James was released from the hospital, he wanted nothing more than to begin his new life and leave the old one behind. With Logan's help he tracked down his belongings and kept about half of them, then paid a visit to his old neighbors and thanked them for a debt he couldn't ever repay. They admitted they'd suspected things weren't right for awhile, though they'd never imagined the abuse was physical, and apologized that it took something so drastic to get their attention. James hugged them both and argued that they were heroes, his true affectionate nature showing itself more and more with each passing day. It warmed Logan's heart.

He decided that he wanted to keep his job at the shop and officially quit the supermarket. Sapphire was disappointed but understanding, mostly happy that he remembered her and wasn't shy about hugging her. She too was a hero to him for pressing Logan to keep trying when he was afraid to push James too far. After an hour of conversation over lunch while Logan was working, they returned to the shop and announced that Sapphire was going to jump ship and work at the yogurt shop. Logan asked if John was aware of that and James shrugged, knowing that John might argue but in the end would give James anything he wanted. That was the power of James Diamond at full force, irresistible and charming but also not above throwing a tantrum when he wanted something badly enough. He rarely lost an argument.

Logan also decided to keep his job at the shop, though he cut back his hours in order to devote time to the book that was now consuming him. James had smashed through his writer's block and he worked day and night to complete it, then made a thousand revisions (even allowing James to make a few suggestions). He hired an editor, who eventually found him a publisher, and with James' encouragement, found the courage to show the world what he could do when he truly opened his mind and heart and poured them into words.

James' dream had been a quiet life, one filled with love and friends. Logan's had been to share his words, to write a book that changed lives. Together they made their dreams come true in a way they couldn't have on their own, because what each of them needed most was each other.

Together, they'd found home.

* * *

 ** _Three Years Later_**

"Are you okay?" I asked in concern, studying James more closely.

"Yeah," James answered, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "That last line always gets me."

"Which one? 'Together, they'd found home'?"

"Yeah. It's...you know. Cheesy. But probably the most accurate thing in this book."

"What's that supposed to mean? I didn't lie about any of it. Didn't even 'enhance' it the way my editor wanted me to. What you're reading is exactly how it happened."

"Calm down, babe, I never said you lied." James closed the book and laid it on my desk, where he'd parked himself to read the last chapter. "I know how it happened, I was there."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There is no problem. I love it. Except for the fact that my name isn't Tommy."

"You know I had to change all the names, babe. To protect you. As far as most of the world will know, the story is completely made up. That's how it needs to be."

"I know," James sighed, rolling the chair away from the desk and patting his thigh in invitation. "It's not even _that_ I mind so much, it's your name change. It's just weird to read this about people named Justin and Tommy. We lived it."

"It doesn't matter anyway, no one's gonna read this book."

I allowed James to pull me down onto his lap as he answered. "Shut up, people are gonna read this book and they're gonna love it. How could they not? One of the characters is...what was it? 'Irresistible and charming?'"

"Also not above throwing a tantrum, if you recall."

"Hey, we all have our ways of getting what we want."

"Not all of us."

"Bullshit. You have your ways with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Doing a passable imitation of me, he said, "'James, if you lob one more spoonful of yogurt at me I'll never suck you off again!' I don't even know what 'lob' means but it works. Don't tell me you don't have your ways of getting what you want."

"Fine, I confess that I know how to get through to you. Now tell me the truth, James. Honestly. Do you like it? I mean, the book's on the way to stores now but that doesn't mean I can't pull the plug if you want me to. We can recall it before it's sold and-"

"No way. That book is going to make Logan Mitchell a household name."

"I don't know how I feel about that. What if Scott-"

"He never knew your last name."

"It's not hard to find out, James. He might have known it. And he's due for parole next month, what if-"

"What if nothing. You changed the names for a reason, and parole means that—if he steps out of line, he's right back in the cage. He's not stupid, he knows that."

"He's had three years to plan his vengeance. He could-"

"Do you want to move?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but I was glad James was finally voicing the subject aloud; I'd known it was on his mind. "Do you?" I returned.

"I don't know. I can't imagine leaving the shop, but..."

"You've been watching those DVD's a lot lately," I hinted gently. "You miss it, don't you?"

"Not the fame. I'll never miss the fame. But I miss acting. It was my first love, you know?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Are you worried that the fame will sidetrack you, though? Pull you back into the drugs?"

"No. Not with you there. That's what I was missing before, someone to ground me. Structure. A lot of actors manage to lead normal lives outside of work. They have families, go to the gym and grocery store without being hassled by the paps. We could make it work if we wanted to. And it's not like I'd start out with any big roles anyway. It'll take a few years for the industry to take me seriously, to see me as anything more than some kid actor trying to make a comeback."

"You've really given this a lot of thought," I mused.

"I have," he admitted, blushing. "It's...I don't know. Do you hate the idea?"

"I've given it some thought, too," I assured him. "There's a lot I'd miss if we moved away. But as long as we do it together, I'd be happy out there. I do have one condition, though."

"What's that?"

"Rusty goes with us. I'm not moving without my dog again."

"Excuse me? _Your_ dog? Who does he sleep with every night?"

"Uh, both of us?"

"No no no, Logan. He sleeps on my side of the bed. Usually on my legs. Sorry, babe, he's pretty much devoted to me now."

"Who feeds him?"

"What does that matter?"

"It means everything to a dog. He's _ours_. I take it you're fine with him coming along to Los Angeles?"

"You act like I'd even consider moving without him."

"Good. So...did we just decide to do this?"

"I think we did. Let's talk it over with Mom tonight, see how she feels about it."

"She won't want us to move."

"But she won't stop us, either. Not if she knows it's what we want. Just think, Logan, you can do book signings and everything out there."

"Nobody's gonna want my autograph. It's not a life-changing story, James. It's just the story of us."

"I'd say that story changed both our lives. Wouldn't you?"

I couldn't argue that. "So honestly, you like it?"

"I admit I prefer the notebook version. The one you wrote for me. But that one's...it's not...it's just for me."

"Yeah."

"When are you gonna let me read the stories you wrote in college about us?"

"Never." I hopped up from his lap and made it two steps before he dragged me back down.

"I think it's cute."

"It's embarrassing."

"It's wonderful. You loved me even then. You just didn't know it."

"I didn't know _you_."

"You did. You knew enough to come back to me."

"I came home."

"According to this book, it's the same thing. I'm home, right?"

The truth of that couldn't be denied, and all of the argument went out of me. "You are," I whispered, kissing him deeply.

"Welcome home," he grinned, slipping a hand inside my sweats.

I gasped when he touched me, immediately giving in.

It was good to be home.

* * *

 **A/N-** -So in case it isn't clear now, the reason I switched between first person and third person in this story is because you were actually reading two versions of it: first person was the notebook version Logan wrote for James, third person was from the book he eventually published for the world to read (obviously before he changed the names haha). The last section wasn't from either version, but more from a narrator's POV of what happened after the events in the book. Hope that's not too confusing but it probably is. Sorry!


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